The de Vere Inheritance
by smac92
Summary: Eric and Elizabeth de Vere have been running for years by the time they reach Paris. With a doomed marriage, political quarrels in England, Eric's gambling debts and more sinister crimes finally catching them up, there is nowhere else for them to run together. Without her husband at her side, Elizabeth will have to place her trust elsewhere...
1. Prologue - 18th November 1627

_**So, I couldn't help myself! I decided to write another musketeer's story. This one is a lot shorter than the last but it is following the life of my OC. It's just an idea that grew in my head and I thought I might as well get it written. I've completely finished it and thought I'd post a few chapters to see what people think!**_

 _ **This story has shorter chapters than my last, and is more like one shots of particular days of importance during my OC's stay in Paris. When I started it I had no idea who the love interest would be but it kind of took a natural flow. It isn't D'artagnan, as I don't have the heart to touch him and Constance at all! I won't tell you who it is just yet though! ;)**_

 _ **I don't own the musketeers, just my OC Elizabeth and her family.**_

* * *

 _18th November 1627_

The women of the house crowded around the slightly ajar door as the sound of booted feet reverberated off the stone flagged floor of the rooms below. They should have all been hiding, but they were somehow too frightened and curious to move. Amongst them, Elizabeth tried to calm her own breathing so that the others might follow her lead. If their late night visitor was unwanted, they would all need to remain calm so as to cause as little of a disturbance as possible. Elizabeth knew very well though, that she would panic along with her servants if the magistrate's men had finally come for her husband. If he was not to be found when they arrived, they would likely take herself in his stead.

"Elizabeth!"

"That's the master's voice," Alice whispered as Elizabeth threw an arm forward and wrenched open the door of her bedchamber. Collectively the group let out the breaths they had held and spread out a little, the fear gone again for a little while.

"Eric, thank God! You had us all frightened to death!" Elizabeth crowed as she stepped out onto the landing and threw a stern look at her husband. He was drunk, as he most often was but tonight he seemed to still be in possession of his wits. He held up his bloody shirt sleeve as he tore off his doublet and Elizabeth felt the quickly vanishing fear grip her again. "You've been fighting?"

Eric nodded gravely. "I'm sorry Lizzie but we need to go now. We night to pack light and-"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that!" she roared as she took a few steps forward and held out her hand until she could almost touch his shirt sleeve. "Why do we need to go? Who were you fighting?"

He sighed heavily as he leaned against the banister behind him. "In truth I lost count after Jacob Wainwright, his brothers and the Cobhams. I killed Daniel Cobham, Elizabeth. They wanted to take me, but with Marcus's help I got away. They'll be at the house soon so you and I need to leave. You need to pack light; enough for a few days only and we need to leave."

The women behind Elizabeth were gasping and muttering at the news, and Elizabeth felt her own mind go blank. "If we go, when will we come back? I'll have to leave money for the servants if we will be gone longer than a week. They will need money for food Eric."

"Damn woman!" Eric snarled as he grabbed Elizabeth's forearm and turned her towards her bedchamber again. He marched them inside it as the servants all fluttered away into the four corners of the room. "Don't you pretend not to understand in these dire moments Elizabeth! You and I need to pack what we may sell on and quit this house. We need to leave England and head for the continent. If we leave now on horseback we can be in Southampton in a few days. We won't be coming back here. It will be safer to leave the servants with nothing. If the magistrate arrives here to find them in possession of money they will think that they hide us!"

"Eric what have you done!" Elizabeth finally felt his words sink in as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth.

His anger seemed to dissipate as he sensed her shock setting in. "Elizabeth I did not mean to kill the man, but it was either him or me. They know, down in the village. They know we are Catholic! They have grown tired of me it seems. I thought all was well when I entered the tavern, but after a drink or two I noticed that I was upon the receiving end of some rather conspicuous looks. When I tried to leave, they barricaded the door. They were after a fight tonight and I was to die by their design."

Elizabeth nodded to show her understanding, even though she was able to ascertain that Eric had emerged relatively unscathed from the fight. "What will I pack?"

He seemed relieved that she was complying, and gripped her arm again and lead her to the trunk at the end of her bed. "Pack lightly, traveling clothes and riding boots. Wear something warm. Two or three cloaks if you can. Can I leave you for a moment to fetch my own things?"

Elizabeth nodded even as Eric was already approaching the door. Once he had gone she turned to stare at the women who were gazing back avidly. Alice stepped forward and clutched Elizabeth's shaking hands in her own. "The master is right Milady. You must leave with him. You are his wife after all, and we shall all be well. They cannot do more than question us and we can tell only that you've both left. If you stay Milady, they will take you with them, you know they will." Elizabeth clutched the woman's hand tightly, needing the reassurance that she would find nowhere else. "The master has done too much here Milady," Alice added in a hushed whisper. "Perhaps you might find a happier life away from here. He could start afresh?"

Elizabeth voiced her agreement with the maid if only to save face. She knew there was no hope at all that Eric would ever leave all of his misdemeanours in the past and turn over a new leaf. She produced a saddle bag from the trunk that she had half packed a few weeks ago in case of a situation like the one she had found herself in. She packed a few other pieces of clothing and then emptied her three jewellery boxes into it, knowing they could sell it all if they needed to. Just as she was about to close the trunk lid, the candlelight flickered across the silver candlesticks hidden at the bottom. Elizabeth caught one up in her hand and stared at it, realising that if she ran, she really would never see her mother again. She stuffed it into the saddle bag and reached for the other one just as Eric barrelled through the door with his own hastily packed saddle bag.

"Elizabeth I said pack lightly! What need for candlesticks have we on the road?"

"They are my mothers, you know that!" Elizabeth cried even as Eric approached and took the candlestick from her bag and handed it to Alice.

"Of course I know! You already wear her jewellery, so it's not as if you don't have anything of hers!" Eric took the other candlestick from her and gave that one to Alice too. "Let Alice take good care of them. She can even send them on to my family for their safe keeping if you so wish!"

"Master do you need me to saddle your horses?" came Mr. Lyttle's booming voice from the doorway.

"No, No!" Eric moved back towards the door and shook the older man's hand. "Thank you for the offer but no. You should stay here and look after the women. You'll be no good to them down at the stables when the magistrate arrives. It's better that we get clean away and implicate no one."

Elizabeth slid her cloaks over her shoulders and fastened the broaches that would keep them in place as Eric took her saddle bag from the bed. There was such a strange silence then as they all stood looking at each other, then Eric left the room and Elizabeth heard his clattering feet racing down the staircase.

"Thank you all for everything," she managed to croak as sadness set in. She knew that none of the household staff would be sad to see her husband leave despite his being a good master as he was a known trouble-maker in the local area, but the house had been the first real home she had ever had. They were like a family to her. She rushed from the room as she felt the tears pricking her eyes.

In no time they had set off from the stables, only stopping once they reached the top of Barns Hill to look down into the valley were the house lay. There was little to make out in the darkness, except the candlelight in the windows and the long shadows made as people moved in and out of the rooms. There was no doubt that they had missed the magistrate and his men by the skin of their teeth.

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 _ **Let me know what you think, constructively if you can?**_


	2. Chapter one - 5th June 1632

**_I only own Elizabeth and her family._**

* * *

 _5th June 1632_

"Oh for heaven's sake not again," Elizabeth sighed as she gazed out of the window of the carriage. They were slowing to a stop just a few yards from the new lodgings that had been arranged for herself and Eric in Paris. Four red guards stood waiting at the bottom of the steps on the Rue Sainte-Anastase and Elizabeth knew exactly why they were there. They were waiting for her. Not one of them stepped forward to help her out of the carriage, or to help unload her luggage. Instead she unloaded all of the smaller items herself whilst the driver unstrapped the larger trunk and carried it towards the steps.

"Perhaps you should set it down there Monsieur," Elizabeth called to him. "It appears these men will need to search my things again." Elizabeth paid the driver, all too aware that he was curiously watching the red guards. He was likely wondering what on earth she'd done to earn such a welcome reception in Paris. She had paid him handsomely though, so he seemed to think better of dawdling and instead he was on his way within a few moments.

"Madame De Vere?" one of the red guards queried as Elizabeth removed her hat pin and slipped her hat from her head.

"Well who on earth else would I be; considering that name is all over my luggage? Can we get this over with gentlemen, I've been in that carriage all morning and it's had a poor affect on my nerves."

Elizabeth stood aside and gestured to her luggage. For a few seconds there was no movement whatsoever and she knew that the men expected her to bend to open the trunks herself. She did not as a rule let others dictate, so she smiled blandly and waited. Eventually a man stepped forward and opened her trunk. Another followed him in kneeling down beside it. The two others began to open her hat boxes and smaller trunks.

"Your husband does not travel with you Madame?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Of course he does you fool. I folded him up and hid him in that trunk you currently have your hand thrust into. I thought it might give you some excitement. After all, this is the third time in the last hour that I've had all of my belongings searched. If Paris didn't know what my undergarments looked like before, they certainly do now!"

The first time they'd searched her, Elizabeth had felt a little embarrassment at the sight of men rifling through all of her things, but those men had been younger and closer to her own age. They'd been sheepish in their search and somewhat apprehensive of touching her corsets and undergarments. These men were older though, and seemed to give not a jot for propriety's sake.

"Where is your husband then? Off gambling away the last of his fortune is he?"

Elizabeth mocked a scoff. "Lord no. It's probably my fortune he's frittering away. By the way do you know who my father is?"

The red guard who had first approached her larger trunk stood up and walked around her luggage so that he was close enough for Elizabeth to smell the leather of his uniform and the scent of unwashed male. It was hot in Paris, that she already knew. He'd likely washed just that morning but was slowly boiling alive in his uniform.

"Of course we know who your father is Madame," he exclaimed in a rather smug manner. "He rented these rooms for yourself and your husband did he not? That's how we knew to expect your arrival."

Elizabeth made a mental note to tell her father to keep his mouth shut in regards to her own affairs and took a decided step back. "I'm not halting your search in any way Messieurs, but I do wonder at your being allowed to search a lady's belongings without her husband present in such a preposterous manner. There is also of course the simple fact that I cannot possibly imagine what can have changed between the city gates and here. As I said, this is the third search since I've entered the city. There I was thinking I'd pass through the gates and be within my new lodgings within ten minutes. I'll be sure to tell my father of this farse."

They chuckled harshly, but Elizabeth did not have time to make any retort. "What's going on here? Bisset; didn't you hear the Madame? She's been searched already!"

Elizabeth turned on her heel expecting to see another red uniform, but the man approaching them from across the street wore a blue one. Taller than any of the red guards, his dark skin and black beard set him apart from most men. He wore a stern expression as he stopped at Elizabeth's side and stared down at the open trunk. A lone earring glinted in the sunlight and Elizabeth thought him almost pirate-like as she gazed up at him.

The man who Elizabeth assumed was called Bisset took a few steps back from her, clearly annoyed by the new man's presence. "Following orders musketeer. Not something you'd understand is it? You lot follow your own rules."

Unbelievably the stern pirate let out a laugh that seemed genuine, but still held a touch of harshness to it. "A red guard who think's he's funny. That's new. The Madame said she'd been searched already. There's no need to do so again is there Bisset? Go on, scuttle off and leave her be! You don't want me to fetch my blindfold do you? I've already had a drink so I'm perfectly poised to aim for one of your heads!"

Elizabeth frowned, not understanding the musketeer's meaning but it seemed to do the trick. The trunk lids closed with a snap and the men were rising to their natural height again and striding away. "I'm sorry but, blindfold?"

The pirate-like musketeer grinned. "I can shoot a melon off a man's head blindfolded, but only if there's rum."

"Ah, I see," Elizabeth replied, even though she did not see. "Thank you for your help Monsieur...?"

He nodded. "Porthos, and that's quite alright. Here, let me..."

The musketeer pirate lifted her large trunk with ease and carried it up the steps to the front door of her lodgings. Elizabeth followed in his wake with a smaller trunk and her hat box. "Thank you again Monsieur Porthos," She supplied as she fished in her small beaded purse for the key to her new lodgings as they stood together on the top step.

"You got a lawyer in Paris?" he asked as he fixed her with a strange look.

"My husband does," said Elizabeth.

"They'll come back." Porthos nodded in the direction the red guards had walked. "You should involve that lawyer before they do. You were right you know. They'd no authority to search your things without your husband present or in the street like that, not unless it's you they're after? In any case you shouldn't have let them."

ELizabeth laughed. "The notion is a fine thing. I've nothing to hide Monsieur Porthos. They can search all they like."

"Yeah but two heads are better than one, you can't have hoped to watch all four of them at one time? They could have planted something."

"I didn't think of that," she supplied thinly.

"Get that lawyer involved," he said with a nod and began to decend the steps again.

"Thank you again!" Elizabeth called out to him. He turned and winked at her before he crossed the street again and turned at the corner. He seemed friendly and helpful, but Elizabeth knew he would not likely be so once he found out who her husband was.

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 _ **Let me know what you think of my OC!**_


	3. Chapter Two - 8th June 1632

_**Thank you so much to Whatfunny and Felicity531 for the reviews. Rest assured Porthos will play a part in this story but as for him being the love interest, you'll have to wait and see! It's still anyone's game yet!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Two 8th June 1632**_

"I'm going home Eric."

He turned to her with a confused expression. "Elizabeth you can't just walk out of a party at the Louvre Palace alone. I thought we'd agreed we were going to drum up some connections tonight anyway? You need them just as much as I do!"

Elizabeth didn't have the effort within her to roll her eyes, so instead she just scowled. "Eric I'm not feeling well at all. I'm going home. Stay and make your own connections."

She turned away from her husband but Eric caught her forearm in his grip. "You can't go alone. I'll take you. Let my fetch my cloak. There will be other parties, and your father isn't even here to introduce us to his own connections. We can make other arrangements."

"Hurry up then," Elizabeth complied. "I need to get some air before I loose my senses. This hall is stiffing."

"I didn't realise who her husband was," Porthos supplied. "She seemed quite nice the other day. Audacious she was. You wouldn't think a woman like that would put up with a husband like him."

"People are full of surprises." Porthos turned to glance over his shoulder at Athos's monotonous tone. His captain ignored the looks his friend gave him and instead watched the couple fetch their cloaks and hats.

"If we cut of of the hall and cross the gallery," D'artagnan mumbled, "We may just beat them to the courtyard."

Elizabeth felt the beginnings of light headedness as they left the hall behind and skirted around hallways in the candlelight. She only made good speed on the staircase because Eric held her arm. At the bottom though as Eric paused to button his doublet, she glimpsed the shadows beyond the doorway. Men were waiting for them, as they had been so many times before.

"Monsieur Porthos," she greeted the pirate-like musketeer as he came into view in the late evening sunlight.

"Madame," he inclined his head to her, but she noticed that he did not remove his hat.

"Mon Seigneur de Vere," another of the four men said as he stepped forward. "We have some questions we wish to put to you. Perhaps we might find a quiet room where you and your wife might speak with us?"

"Do I have a choice?" Eric asked blandly.

"Well chances are you'd sooner make a run for it," Porthos added. "This way, we can at least extract from you the money and information you've already gathered in the few days you've been in Paris."

Elizabeth saw Eric try for a polite smile. "That's all very well gentlemen, but my wife is ill. I was taking her home. Perhaps you might allow me to do so, and you could meet me at our lodgings in say; an hour?"

Elizabeth felt four sets of eyes fix upon her then, and it was testament to how tired and withdrawn she looked lately that it appeared Eric's words had been believed.

"Very well," said another of the men. Elizabeth could not see his face, for he stood in the shadow of the awning and the brim of his hat was pulled low. "You have one hour Mon Seigneur and Madame."

"Come Elizabeth..." Eric whisked her away without so much as a backwards glance.

"An hour is a long time Athos," D'artagnan argued. "They could be outside the city gates in an hour!"

"Nah," exclaimed Porthos. "There's red guards on every street corner wanting to search their carriage. They wouldn't get much further than Les Halles in an hour."

"I said they had an hour." Athos approached from his spot against the wall. "I did not agree not to follow them directly too their lodgings within that hour."

"Perhaps the wife really is ill," Porthos suggested as the four of them crowded the corner of the Rue Sainte-Anastase. They looked on as Elizabeth stumbled as she exited the carriage. Only Eric's firm grip of her arms stopped her from tumbling to the floor. He held her upright as they slowly ascended the steps and entered their lodgings. The musketeers watched as a few seconds later a manservant left the same entrance, scuttling off in a hurry.

"Where do you suppose he's off too?" Aramis queried blandly.

"There's one way to find out," announced D'artagnan. "Let's just ask them."

The rooms were still cold when they were let in by the maid. A fire had been lit in the lounge and Elizabeth was perched on the couch nearest it, seeming for all the world as if she wanted to crawl into it. Eric was stood by the fireplace, one arm leaning against the mantle, the other nursing a glass of brandy.

"What the devil...I said an hour!" Eric roared as he caught sight of the musketeers entering the room."

"We must have misjudged our timings a little," mused Porthos. "Looks like your manservant did too Mon Seigneur, judging by the speed of him as he left a few moments ago."

"He's gone to fetch a doctor for my wife for heaven's sake! He will return promptly. Where on earth would you think he'd be going at this hour? Off to secure us a getaway? I'll have you know that I've no reason whatsoever to run from Paris! I even agreed to sit down and speak with you once I'd put my wife to bed!"

"That might have to wait." Athos removed his hat and stepped into the room. "We have been ordered to search these rooms Mon Seigneur and Madame. It would be better if you both remained here whilst it is carried out."

"Like hell I will!" Eric roared.

"Oh Eric just let them search," Elizabeth sighed. "The sooner they are done the sooner we can go to bed. We have nothing to hide. Refusing only makes us look guilty." Her eyes pleaded with her husband who lately seemed so far removed from her. For once her intense gaze seemed to penetrate.

"Fine! I want you all to know that I'm not happy about this! Harassing us at home at this time of night is uncouth and uncivilised! Rest assured your superior officers will hear of this!"

D'artagnan grinned. "It was our superior officer who gave the order Mon Seigneur." He nodded his head towards Athos. "This is our captain."

"Eric..." Elizabeth warned as she noticed her husband's face begin to redden. She stood and placed her hand on his arm as if to keep him in place.

"For goodness sake woman you tell me you are ill so sit down. I don't need you overexerting yourself on top of everything else." Elizabeth really did roll her eyes that time. She moved away from Eric again and resumed her seat. "I will be supervising your search," Eric added as an afterthought as he looked to Athos. "Surely that is allowed considering that this is my home and I do not know any of you."

"That's probably wise," agreed Porthos. "We wouldn't want you to start accusing us of planting things now would we?"

"Porthos stay here," Athos said with a nod towards Elizabeth and he followed Eric from the room with Aramis and D'artagnan in tow.

"I suppose you are here to see to it that I don't move?" Elizabeth queried as Porthos turned back towards her. "But would you mind if I poured myself a drink?"

"I think we can permit you to move from one side of the room to the other Madame," chuckled Porthos.

The decanter felt heavy in Elizabeth's shaking hands and she manoeuvred around the side table so that Porthos would not see the liquid sloshing around. When she tried to pour a glass of brandy though, she was sure he could not have missed the glass and the decanter clinking together repeatedly. With a full glass she returned to her seat to find Porthos watching her warily.

"Don't be nervous of us Madame. It's not us you want to be worried about. If we were not here, then red guards would be. The red guards take their orders from the city governor who was once himself just a normal Paris citizen. They see things very differently. We take our orders directly from the crown. The King's sister is married to your English king after all, so there is some sympathy within our king for the exiled English. The red guards would likely plant evidence to have your husband arrested, as I've already told you."

"What about me then?" she asked suddenly. "Are you not going to tell me what would happen to myself in such a case? Am I too weak minded to bear such things?"

Porthos offered her a genuine smile. "Madame if you have the gall to ask such a question, then you already know the answer. You don't need me to tell you anything. I think you're smart enough to know Paris is not a safe place for you without your husband. It is also not a safe place to be on your husband's side though Madame. Not now, after all the trouble he's caused in so many countries. He's got a fair few targets on his head. That's why we're here. To cut off any transactions at the source before they become something much bigger. We do not need that kind of trouble in Paris."

"So we're trouble are we Monsieur Porthos?" Elizabeth asked him with a raised brow, but she heard a little humour in her voice. "Do you think I don't know that? It follows us around like a bad smell. The thing is, I don't quite understand what it is you hope to find here? In any case, we've been here for all of two days. I know what kid of man my husband is Monsieur, but even he would struggle to cause that much trouble in two days."

"Betting slips, signed agreements, stolen jewellery and money of course. Your husband has quite the list of debts Madame. He's been making enemies all over Christendom and from what we hear he led them quite the merry dance in Italy."

"Yes he had a lot to answer for in Italy," Elizabeth whispered darkly, her expression suddenly cold and withdrawn. The humour of moments before vanished like a whisp of smoke and she felt somehow hollow, as if those memories now floating to the surface were somehow of another life.

The conversation died until the other men returned to the room. Eric appeared as angry as before, but there was no new ire in place since he had left the room. The musketeers began to search as the couple looked on and Elizabeth suddenly realised how little they had carried with them. They'd been to so many places and seen so many beautiful things but often they left in a hurry, sometimes taking only the very clothes they stood up in and a few pieces of jewellery to sell. They opened the drawers of the sideboard and Elizabeth felt a frisson of apprehension shoot up her spine. Sure enough, a few seconds later Aramis presented the little phials to Athos.

"These are very strong opiates. I've not seen the like sold here in Paris."

"Yes yes and they aren't illegal!" Elizabeth called from across the room.

"Quite the concoction all this would be if it were mixed together," Aramis mused as he lifted more phials from the drawer.

Elizabeth stood abruptly and crossed the room towards him. "And they are mine. They are nothing to do with my husband." Elizabeth snatched the opiates from his outstretched hand and stuffed them into the pocket of her skirts as she returned to her seat. Aramis threw her a glare that told Elizabeth he did not believe her at all.

"How did two money-strapped English exiles afford these grand lodgings anyway?" D'artagnan asked as if he hoped to diffuse the tension a little. "Surely you'd need a guarantor for a building like this?"

Elizabeth scoffed. "You really didn't do your research well enough, did you? My father rented these rooms for us."

"He's in Paris then?" Aramis asked. "That's a lucky break for you both! How idyllic your life must be, floating into towns and cities and straight into rather grand lodgings rented by someone else. Perhaps Madame you might wish to warn your father about your husband's previous lack of care towards lodgings and their furnishings. We know what happened in Nantes. We know you stripped the lodgings rented by a friend of yours of anything that was valuable and sold them before you left, but you didn't use the money to pay off the debts did you Mon Seigneur? What a life you both live. What remarkable freedom you've had for so long!"

Elizabeth lurched to her feet. The musketeer had unknowingly mentioned the one word which made her blood boil no matter the context in which it was used. "Elizabeth..." Eric warned.

Elizabeth shook off his grip of her wrist. "You really did not look into us at all did you? My married name Messieurs is de Vere but my maiden name is Clifford. Lady Elizabeth Clifford. My father was the Earl of Derby before his title was stripped from him and he scurried off to France, leaving behind my mother with two small children and another on the way. In the absence of my father the warrant was fulfilled in that my mother was arrested and sent to the tower. I was born there, where my mother and brothers still reside to this day. I was only released at the age of fourteen to marry that fool!" she gestured blandly at Eric who shook his head at her in a half-hearted warning. "Out of one cage and into another, some might say. Do not speak to me of freedom Monsieur!"

Elizabeth coughed and turned away as she brought a handkerchief up to cover her mouth. There was noise in the hallway as the front door was opened and a few seconds later they heard footsteps on the stairs. "That will be the doctor," Eric said.

"I'll see him in my room," Elizabeth mumbled as she slipped into the corridor that led to the bedchambers.

It appeared she'd left the men in a stunned sort of silence, with only Eric's voice discernible as he directed the doctor her way. She heard the musketeers finally leave as she spoke quietly with the doctor, and assured him that she did not need anything he offered. She forced herself not to voice certain concerns that the stress of being seen by doctors everywhere she went was not improving her health at all. Once the doctor had left she changed for bed and began to remove the pins holding her hair in its coiffed place. Eric appeared as she pulled a brush through her long blonde hair in light strokes.

"You're going out again?" she asked his reflection in her mirror. He was still dressed and was clutching a glass of liquid that was either brandy or whiskey. That was how she always knew. Eric rarely drank if he did not intend to go out.

"Just to the card tables for an hour or two Elizabeth. Besides, you'll be resting so you'll not know the difference. I always feel guilty shuffling around if you're trying to rest."

Elizabeth sighed heavily and put down the hairbrush. She turned on the stool so that she faced her husband. "Have we the money for you to play cards Eric? You cannot hope to get lucky every night."

"You can ask your father for some more tomorrow can't you?" he asked her quickly. "I'm not a fool Elizabeth. I know you'd ask anyway because your little potion habits need funding."

Elizabeth said nothing. She had indeed been thinking of appealing to her father for money when she saw him next but she had hoped Eric would not know of it. She had been able to keep very little of her own money in all the time they'd been married. That was not to say that Eric did not allow her any, but he always knew exactly what was in her purse and what she spent it on.

"Get some rest dear," he said gently as he smiled and left the room, pulling the door closed after him. Elizabeth turned back to her mirror. On many occasions when Eric slipped out, she too would disappear off into the night. She knew that Eric would not return until an hour closer to luncheon the next day and so she had all the time in the world to seek out some form of entertainment. She was too exhausted by the travelling of recent days though, and all of the commotion that seemed to follow herself and Eric around had made her weary. She was content to slip into bed and rest for once.

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 _ **Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**_


	4. Chapter Three - 20th June 1632

_**Chapter Three - 20th June 1632**_

Elizabeth had grown to dread answering knocks at the door of her lodgings. With Eric out doing God knows what and the maid off running errands, she was all alone. There had been incidents before. At least when she was out and about alone, when one of Eric's creditors or their hired hands approached her there would always be someone else around to step in. It had happened a lot in the south of France when she was out walking. She slowly began to live the life of a recluse because she was embarrassed to have such people threaten her and bombard her with insults in the street. The few new friends she managed to make anywhere she went were normally quite taken aback by such behaviour and Elizabeth did not blame them. They always defended her which she was grateful for, but it made matters worse in the end. Elizabeth felt bad that good and honest people were dragged into Eric's dodgy dealings and so she sacrificed those friendships for fickle women who were only friendly so that they could gossip about her later on.

The sharp rap came again and Elizabeth who was perched a few steps from the top of the staircase, didn't know what to do. It might well just be a message or an innocent encounter as it was broad daylight but Porthos's words of warning about the red guards returning made her hesitate. She should not be alone with men of any kind, let alone ones with a perilous reputation. The noise continued relentlessly and it began to distract her, breaking through her nerves and serving to annoy her. She was due to go out in a short while and it did not appear that the person on the other side of the door was going to give up any time soon. What would happen when she opened the door though? At best it might perhaps be a neighbour or some of those people she didn't want to call friends that had come to call, but it could be someone much worse. She was a woman home alone. The men her husband had wronged might take advantage of finding her in such a predicament.

Seeing no way to avoid answering the door when she needed to leave in a short while, Elizabeth crept down the staircase and stood in the vestibule before the door. In a second of quick thinking she designed for herself a safety mechanism and from the side she began to pull the chest of drawers out from the wall and towards the door. When it was finally in place a few inches from the door she unhooked the latch and pulled the door open by just a crack. The pirate musketeer and his friends stood crowded onto the top steps outside. Elizabeth couldn't help feeling a little relieved that it was not someone more sinister who awaited her outside, but she still felt a little stirring of annoyance that they'd felt the need to return so soon.

She began to push at the chest of drawers with her hips, sliding it back towards the wall a little as she opened the door wider. The sullen man was the first to turn towards her, his expression a cold one that Elizabeth did not care to understand at all. "Madame, we would speak with your husband."

The gruff statement left her feeling a little disembodied, as if she wasn't even there. It always antagonised her that other men would overlook her and always speak only with Eric. She was no fool, and was glad of it for a wise head was more than likely what had kept both her and Eric alive over the years. "He isn't here," she stated bluntly as she wedged her foot behind the door upon impulse. Something about the sullen fellow gave her the impression that he'd not hesitate to rush her and shove the door off it's hinges if he thought the occasion called for it.

Porthos tried for a friendly smile as he moved closer. "Perhaps you might tell us where he is Madame and we will not have to take up any more of your time."

Elizabeth wanted to laugh at that. How many women did she know who actually knew the whereabouts of their husbands at all times? She couldn't recall the last time Eric had willingly told her where he was going. Even if he was only venturing out to browse a book shop or two he considered it none of Elizabeth's business. Elizabeth tried for a small smile back but she could tell it was not believed. "I'm afraid my husband neglected to tell me where he would be this afternoon," she supplied thinly. "Perhaps I can help though? If there is anything in particular that you wished to ask I can try my best to aid you."

The sullen one all but rolled his eyes. Elizabeth wanted to scratch him. She'd done that once to Eric when they'd argued. They'd both been very irate and Eric had been drunk. They'd both hit each other which in Elizabeth'd eyes made her no better than Eric. He'd pulled her hair though, which such a force that Elizabeth was sure he'd torn a clump from her head. He held on as he dragged her and she'd lashed out before she even thought about what she was doing. She'd dragged her fingernails down the side of his face and drawn blood. They were only scratches, but they were visible for a week or two afterwards. Eric seemed to recover his equilibrium after that. Perhaps it was the shock of her fighting back so fiercely that made him realise he'd gone much too far.

"We're here to search your rooms again Madame," Porthos supplied. "We will not do so when your husband is absent though. We'll wait for him to return if that's alright with you?"

Elizabeth was still concious of her foot jaming the door into place and of her jittery nerves which had no doubt been obvious to the four men. Something stirred within her conciousness that they might have planned it all. Perhaps they wanted to lie in wait of Eric's return to foil whatever scheme he was concocting next. That did not help Elizabeth, who dearly wanted to leave the lodgings for the first time in days and go to her meeting.

"Actually..." she announced on impulse, "I'd rather that you searched now if it's all the same. I've got somewhere to be soon and I trust I can't be allowed to leave until you've searched the rooms. As long as you'll permit me to pin my hair whilst you search, I've no issue." She opened the door wider, seemingly proud of herself that she was thwarting their potential plan and keeping her herself and her husband right.

"You're sure?" Porthos asked as he took off his hat and presented her with a raised brow.

"Please do not take offence for I intend none," she replied, "But I have no desire to sit watching the windows for my husband's return and in turn watching all of you. As I said. I've got an appointment to get to."

Porthos was first to enter, offering her a simple nod as he began to make his way up the stairs. The others followed, with the sullen one bringing up the rear. Elizabeth shut the door on the street, hoping that none of her neighbours had seen the musketeers arriving for they were sure to disapprove. Then as she turned she saw the chest of drawers still jutting out quite a bit from it's original spot against the wall and hoped none of the musketeers had noticed it.

In the parlour they waited patiently, as if they were hesistant to begin without her permission. Elizabeth thought such a notion was comical, as they would not have given a second thought to her if her husband were present.

"I assume one of you will need to search my things so you can do so whilst I pin my hair," Elizabeth called as she turned and made for the hallway again. "The quicker you search gentlemen, the quicker I can leave to be about my business."

She heard footsteps follow her as she made her way into her own sparsely decorated room. They'd not brought much with them to Paris and Elizabeth wasn't sure they'd leave with much either. Things were getting much worse in regards to Eric's behaviour. A few years ago, they sometimes got to leave of their own choosing and took some new belongings with them, but they hadn't been able to do that in a long time. They were usually chased by creditors or by husbands who had discovered that Eric had been seeing their wives privately. They'd also been run out of a few smaller towns were there was no real harm done, but people wanted them gone nonetheless.

Elizabeth perched in her stool before her dressing table and lifted a handful of pins, grateful when she glanced into the mirror and saw that it was not the sullen musketeer who had followed her but the one called Aramis. He hesitated for a few seconds as if he was waiting for her to give permission for him to search her things. She gave none and began to twist her hair up and away from her face before she pinned it to her head. When she glanced in his direction again he had begun to search of his own accord, gently rifling through the pages of a small pile of books she'd somehow managed to carry with her to Paris.

"There's no need to look so sheepish," Elizabeth called to him over her shoulder after a while. "I think we can assume this is not the first time you've searched through a lady's things. As long as you do not damage anything and leave it all where you found it I've no quarrel with you Monsieur."

She watched his reflection smile into the mirror at her. "I am sheepish Madame as I do not expect to find anything. We searched these rooms a few weeks ago finding nothing and I'm quite certain a woman like yourself would not have anything to hide. It's more your husbands rooms we are concerned for..."

He trialed off as Elizabeth heard a drawer slide open. She cringed inwardly as she knew he'd come accross her stash of medicines and potions. She wondered who it was that had searched her belongings the time before, as it was evident that Aramis was seeing her collection for the very first time.

"See something you like musketeer?" Elizabeth asked as she bristled slightly.

He turned towards her again, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "Madame these herbs and potions are not what one would expect, they are surely dangerous when taken together?"

Elizabeth turned on her stool so that she was facing him, hair pins still clutched in her hand. "Who says I take them together Monsieur? I've been ill recently and some of them have eased my pain a little. The others are for recreational use and as I said before to you, they are not illegal."

Aramis nodded even as she saw his eyes dance over the labels of the little phails. "If you were to take the wrong thing though Madame, and in the wrong quantity... It would be an easy mistake to make in the dark and if you're ill and not of your own mind."

Elizabeth rolled another lock of hair away from her face and pinned it as she continued to watch him. "I'm careful Monsieur. That's why there are labels. There's nothing lethal there anyway. They just ease my pain a little, and in times of dire need they transport me away from my life for an hour or two."

"It cannot be an easy life, always travelling so much," he replied. "I must apologise for your distress the last time myself and my friends were here. We did not mean to upset you. You were right in that we did not know your history."

Elizabeth shrugged and grabbed the remaining hair at the nape of her neck and began to twist it onto the back of her head so that she could pin it. "Few do. It's not something I discuss and Eric does not like to speak of it. I think it pains us both to recall what we left behind in England, and of what our lives might have been had we not left when we did. Perhaps I might have found myself back inside the tower."

"I cannot imagine what that was like." He was searching through her trunk now, but he was moving things in a respectful manner and replacing them when finished. "To be born into captivity and to live such a sheltered life. All of this travel must be bittersweet. Even though the world is beautiful to discover, I'm sure it's tinged with a sadness that you have only borne such freedom for a short space of time, and your brothers have yet to see such things."

Elizabeth fought against the urge to tell him not to speak of such things, but she knew that others would not have much understanding of the pain she was in. "Yes, quite," was all she managed before she turned away from him.

Dropping the rest of her pins down onto the dressing table, Elizabeth lifted her scent bottle and brushed some gently below her ears and on the insides of her wrists before she moved out of the musketeer's way so that he could inspect her dressing table. A few moments later she heard the door closing downstairs and inwardly grimaced.

"What the devil is going on here! Who let you in!"

Elizabeth was already on her feet and heading back towards the parlour when she heard Porthos speak. "Your wife let us in Mon Seigneur. We did offer to wait for your return but the Madame was adamant that we proceed."

"Eric," Elizabeth called as she reached the parlour door and turned into the room. "It's fine Eric. There's nothing here to hide and I have somewhere to be. I thought it made little sense for all of our days to be held back because you were absent."

Elizabeth pulled her cloak from the back of a chair where she'd left it and lifted a book from a nearby table as her husband's face grew redder with anger. "It's about the principal! You should not have let them in Elizabeth! A woman alone with four soldiers in her lodgings? People will talk."

"Yes," Elizabeth simpered. "It's wonderful to know that's your chief worry Eric." She slipped the cloak over her shoulders and fastened the clasp at the base of her neck. "Do you need to search me before I leave?" Elizabeth said over her shoulder to Aramis who had followed her back into the parlour.

"No Madame, I don't think that will be necessary."

She nodded her thanks to him and threw Eric a disdainful look as she passed. He grabbed her wrist painfully to halt her steps. "Yes because there's like to be all sorts concealed under that bodice!"

Elizabeth was no longer riled by the contemptuous remarks Eric sometimes threw her way when he was displeased with her. She glanced about her, making sure that no one else was in ear shot before she spoke again. "Well it's not like you'd know is it Eric? After all it's been so long since we shared a bed that we're practically born again brother and sister!"

Elizabeth snatched her wrist back out of his grip and turned away from him. "Where are you going now?" he called after her.

"A women's book meeting!" She waved the book in the air as she walked, not daring to turn back and see the ire in his expression. He didn't like her being obtuse with him. Lifting her chin up she stormed from the room and ran straight into the sullen musketeer who was standing right outside the door. Elizabeth could not tell if he'd heard her conversation or not because his eyes gave nothing away. He gave her a sharp nod of the head and moved to let her pass. She'd already decided she didn't care if he'd heard by the time she was clattering down the last few steps and opening the door to the streets of Paris because she'd disliked him from the moment she set eyes on him.

Madame Deschamps was standing at the top of the steps outside the neighbouring house. "We're going to be a little late! What took so long? I saw those musketeers..."

"Yes they're here to deal with my husband," Elizabeth skirted the issue as both women descended their own staircases and met in the street. She glanced the other woman's way as they matched pace and walked together in the direction of the river. Elizabeth was not entirely sure why she was stepping out with a woman who clearly didn't like her, but boredom had driven her to seek out catty and pernicious women for want of something to do and entertainment. She'd never associated with women like Madame Deschamps before but now she had little left to loose really. It made her laugh to think that people might think her one of them.

"What did your husband say this time? I recall he was not pleased that you left without his permission to attend the last meeting?" Madame Deschamps pushed as they crossed a bridge.

Elizabeth scoffed. "I told him I'm going to a book meeting. What he doesn't know wont hurt him!" Then she lifted the book and threw it over the balustrade where it hurtled towards the murky depths of the Seine.


	5. Chapter Four - 26th June 1632

_**Whatfunny; I'm not surprised you don't quite like her yet! I had that feeling when I finished writing it and read it all through. I think it only adds to the overall affect though. I think the musketeers are looking for anything that might incriminate Eric. I think they want him gone from Paris if they can manage it.**_

 _ **So, here's chapter four and in it we shall be meeting Elizabeth's father!**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter Four - 26th June 1632_**

"It is good to meet you Madame, after hearing so much about you from your father!" the little French house-keeper exclaimed as Elizabeth handed over her hat and cloak to the eager woman. "He talks of you and your brothers all the time. He is so very glad I think to have you here in Paris with him!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as the woman pottered away with her things. "Not enough to have me stay with him here though..." she muttered under her breath.

When she was finally shown into the elegantly long room her father was using as a study of sorts, she was surprised by how much light the windows let into the room. From outside they had not looked large enough, but despite even the dark wood of the book cases and other furniture, Elizabeth felt warm sunlight on her face as she began to cross the room towards her father's desk. He stood when he heard the clicking of her heels on the wooden floor and threw his arms out for her to embrace him. Elizabeth did, feeling for the first time in a very long time that she might be about to have a conversation with someone who didn't have an ulterior motive.

He smelt of some sort of cologne and starch from his white collar. Elizabeth might have considered that he smelt like home before she entered the room, but he did not. She supposed though that she did not have a home really to compare it to. They held each other in silence for a long time before Elizabeth pulled away, feeling a little foolish to be almost brought to tears by the tenderness in her father's embrace of her.

"You're ill again?" he asked as he scrutinised her face. She had expected him to notice. He always did. "Shall I have my doctor call upon you; he's very good you know?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I've seen one. I've got some tonics and other things to help. I'm fine father, really."

"Eric shouldn't be dragging you across Christendom like some sort of lap dog. It's clearly doing your health no good at all," John Clifford mused. "Can't you ask him to prolong his stay so that you might rest a little and recover? Then we could spend more time together."

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. "I have been considering doing just that father. We've not been anywhere recently where I would have considered staying on otherwise I would more than likely have asked him sooner. I don't know if he shall comply though. You know what Eric is like. He causes trouble wherever he goes and there's usually not much choice for us but to leave."

Her father shook his head again and resumed his seat. Elizabeth perched on the edge of his desk. "He's not looked after you properly for a very long time you know. When you first married, for a time I thought you and Eric were rather well suited. He was a good husband in the beginning, that I will give him credit for. After what happened in Italy though your letters changed. I saw your mood drop almost instantly. It has never returned. Will you not try again to-"

"I'm not discussing that!" Elizabeth's clipped tones reverberated around the room as she straightened her spine, feeling as if she were being purposefully penned into discussing matters that she would not even let herself think about.

"Elizabeth you not talking is half the problem!"

She sighed heavily. "I did not come here to argue with you father. Eric does not like to speak of such times."

Her father had the good grace to stifle his incredulous bark of laughter. "Of course he doesn't. he behaved abominably and he knows it. Admitting it to others though is something I cannot imagine Eric de Vere doing readily. I know we are not a family that openly discusses our trials and tribulations but Elizabeth I am here if you ever do need to. Unfortunately I cannot extend my invitation to your husband. I fear that my patience has entirely worn thin where he is concerned. If he were not with you I would have welcomed you here into this house. I still would if I thought for a moment you would leave him."

"He's my husband," Elizabeth sighed. "I have always believed in the sanctity of marriage and of the loyalty that must be present between a husband and his wife. I wish to uphold my marriage vows despite the fact that my husband flouts them openly. I will not be looked at with disdain."

"No, you will not," her father agreed. "You've always been such a good sort of person Elizabeth. You want to make your marriage work and your courage does you credit but sometimes I do worry that you give too much of yourself. There comes a point when you must realise that the man gives you nothing but constant stress and worry in return. People will only look upon you with pity! I'd rather they scorned my daughter than pitied her. You are not a weak minded woman Elizabeth but people who do not know you may believe so. you have no children to speak of, so I am at a loss as to why you stay with him. You know very well I'd support you if you broke from him!"

Elizabeth felt her hands curl into fists but managed to retain her anger. It would not do to lose her temper with her father even though he himself had no right to speak of Eric that way. "That's actually why I'm here father," she supplied thinly. "I was going to ask you if I could have some money?"

"Did Eric send you to ask me? Elizabeth you know I cannot give that man any more money! He squanders every coin he's presented with! Why would I feed the habits of a scoundrel?"

Elizabeth placed her hand upon his arm as if to soothe him. "I do not ask for Eric. Indeed I do not intend to tell him about anything you should give me, but I have no money of my own. I have a need for new dresses, nothing extravagant as I've nowhere that fancy to go. It's just that nothing fits any more. I feel like I'm carrying around so much more material than is needed. I might even just have my dresses taken in and some new ribbons added but all of that costs money that I don't have. I also wanted to have some I could put away in case I have need of another doctor or some more tonics. I do not like to always be asking Eric for money. Of course for the doctors and for the tonics he is more than happy to pay, but I feel as if afterwards he uses it as leverage."

Her father was glancing up and down her slim figure as he nodded. "The dress is out of season and ill-fitting, but then you've lost so much weight Elizabeth!"

"I don't like talking about things like that with Eric. You know what happened to his sister after all. The poor girl was depressed and lonely, but when she tried to talk to her family they sent her away to bevpoked and prodded by men who called themselves doctors. She died in that infernal place father! All because she was a little low of mood and wanted for a friend. Her family were likely the cause of her mind-state in the first place! Only Harry ever visited her there and he was powerless against his father's rule. Eric has the same mind as his father. I would not have him shut me away like some invalid because I've lost some weight and I'm not feeling entirely myself. It is enough that he thinks I am ill enough to be hoodwinked all the time."

Her father was shaking his head, a knowing and pained smile upon his face. It was not a happy smile. It was one that told Elizabeth she was not going to like what he said next. "I always knew he was a rotten one, you know! It is a wonder Elizabeth that you did not think to marry his brother Harry, but I suppose at the time Eric posed more of a promising prospect for a woman like yourself who wanted the happy family life you never got to have. No, I had Eric marked as rather a bad choice from the beginning, but you were so keen and he did appear to prove himself at the beginning."

"This isn't fair!" Elizabeth cried as she began to feel her composure slipping away. "I did what was asked of me! I did what my mother instructed me to do and you went along with it father! If you were so predisposed to dislike him then why on earth did you let me marry him?"

"Elizabeth-"

"NO! You do not get to tell me that it was all my choice! you do not get to sit there in your grand chair and tell me how things were back then when you were not there! You were here in Paris living the life you were born into while we rotted in the tower! I do not blame my mother for what she did in marrying me off! She was trying to get me out of there! She tried to get the boys out too but they were too old! They were already a threat but poor little stuttering Elizabeth Clifford would never amount to anything so she could marry who she pleased, as long as it was into a family that would keep her in line. My mother gave everything she had for us, so much so that any chance she had of being freed is now lost to her. She will die in the tower, as my brothers might. You did nothing! You left for exile and did nothing at all to try and get us out! Now you sit here, holding on to your purse strings so tightly in fear that a sou or two might slip into my husband's hands! Do you not trust me father? But then this isn't about trust is it? It's about what's owed. You owe me a great deal more than the contents of your money purse father!"

"He did send you didn't he? Are you frightened to return without money; is that it?" her father bellowed after her as Elizabeth turned on her heel and stormed across the room. Yanking the door open she turned into the hallway and stopped short. Four musketeers stood waiting against the wall, the house-keeper waiting with them. She at least had the sense to appear shocked by Elizabeth's upset appearance, but knowing glances the musketeers shared with each other told Elizabeth that they'd heard nearly if not all of her argument with her father. What did she care really though, when all would soon be lost. They were likely waiting to question her father about Eric's dealings and she'd just made herself a waiting target. If they knew of trouble within her marriage they would try to use it as leverage. Whatever they tried though, she knew she would remain loyal to her husband. The housekeeper scurried to retrieve her hat and cloak but Elizabeth reached them first and snatched them up, not stopping to put them on before she walked down the hallway and let the door slam behind her as she ventured out onto the street again.

* * *

 _ **In the next chapter, Elizabeth faces some real heartbreak and a few home truths!**_

 _ **As ever, please leave a review and tell me what you think!**_


	6. Chapter Five - 28th June 1632

_**Thanks to Whatfunny for the review! The musketeers will be more present in future chapters. I just have to get Elizabeth to the point where she needs them!**_

 _ **In this chapter, Elizabeth's heartbreak is renewed and a plot around her begins to thicken.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Five - 28th June 1632**_

"I'm not going with you Eric, when you next leave Paris."

"Don't talk nonsense Elizabeth!" Eric cried. "What; you're going to stay here alone? Or are you going to take up rooms in your father's house? Is this some scheme of his eh? Some scheme that he's plotted in which you stay and he gives you whatever you want? He wouldn't give you money would he; because of me? I heard you coughing into the night. No money for your tonics?"

The cold laughter was harsher on Elizabeth's ears than any other sound he had ever made. "I didn't take his money because he spoke ill of you. You are my husband and I am a loyal wife. I'm not going with you because I'm sick of all of this travelling Eric. I'm sick of always being on my guard, tired of having to leave with sometimes only a few moment's notice! Think of how much money we've wasted in new things because so many times we have had to run with only the clothes on our backs. You know I've been ill and all of this travelling about is not helping me. The doctors have said so too."

Eric sighed heavily and moved to take a seat beside Elizabeth on the couch. "Paris does not strike me as the best place to try and recover a little if that is what you really wish Elizabeth! If you'd like I can rent a house in the country somewhere; anywhere you like. That way you won't be forced to live under the city smog. Cities are dirty rat infested places. The country would be better for you!"

Elizabeth clenched her hands into fists where they lay in her lap. "Don't you understand anything I try to tell you Eric? I do not feel up to travelling into the country! I do not feel well at all! I want to stay in Paris and spend time with my father! I want to visit the bathhouse as the other Parisians do and I want to make some real friends. I want to have a home for a while! I can't keep your secrets any more Eric. I can't go on as we have been all these years. I am still your wife legally but we are not even friends any more. You slight me at every opportunity and take pains to ensure I am always locked up wherever we stay. I have no one to talk to, no one who is purely there to listen. I've tried so hard to be a good wife to you Eric, but I'm struggling here! Can't you see that? Can't you see that all this stress is not helping me to get better?"

Eric stood and paced the room as Elizabeth spoke, and she was sure he would have some smart comment to make once she had finished. "Has your father put you up to this to throw my nose out of joint? What, so you want an annulment, a divorce? What?"

Elizabeth stood too, feeling at a disadvantage when Eric could shout over the top of her head. "I don't quite know what I want in terms of our marriage Eric. If I thought you'd return to the young man I married then I would of course be prepared to try and work things out, but I fear that man is gone forever! Don't you recall those happy days we had at home in England? All those wonderful summer afternoons spent running around the lawns of Barnham house? You and I, and Harry and all of the others? I married you because of who you were back then. You're just a shell now. God I think even Harry is a better prospect than you now in some respects!"

"Oh go and have Harry then if you really want to!" Eric roared as his anger began to swell. "I know he'd not say no, but then he never has to anyone! God Harry's the biggest whore I know! If you want to be used and tossed by the wayside then go to him!"

"I don't want Harry!" Elizabeth exclaimed as Eric turned on his heel and headed for his bedchamber. "I never did, that's why I married you!" She stopped in the doorway and watched as Eric tore off his shirt and threw it onto the floor uncerimoniously. He grabbed another from his opened trunk and stuffed it over his head and pulled it down. He threw a doublet over his shoulders and grabbed a stiff collar to pin to his shirt and stormed past Elizabeth, nearly knocking her over in his haste to leave. "Where are you going?"

"To find a bloody drink and a card table!" was all the reply she got before the parlour door slammed and she heard Eric clattering down the stairs. A few seconds later, the door to the lodgings was slammed too and she was all alone. She did wonder at Eric hoping to find a card table so early in the morning, but then Eric always had a knack for smiffing them out.

If Elizabeth had felt strength enough to go after Eric, she still wouldn't have done so. She was forever apologising for her husband when quite often she was not entirely sure what he'd done wrong. Getting drunk and playing cards at this hour of the day would only increase the chances of him finding someone else to antagonise. Then they would be back at square one, trying to justify their right to stay in Paris. Elizabeth had already decided she was having no part in any of it. In order to remain inculpable she would need to distance herself from Eric in every way possible. She did not want to break from her husband if she did not have to, for it would do no good for her reputation at all. If she left the lodgings they currently resided in and took up another, people would certainly begin to talk though. She truly did not know what to do and was suddenly very eager for her father's advice. Although she resented him awfully for the fact she'd spent fourteen years of her life without contact with him, she appreciated that he did love her in his own way. He'd kept himself alive by leaving England, for if he had stayed he would surely have been killed. In a way he had ensured that he could still exert some influence for his children. If he had given himself up though, ELizabeth's pregnant mother would not have been locked in the tower with her two sons. They would have been questioned and released to live their lives as they pleased. Her brothers would be married themselves by now, and her mother might even have married again. There was no right way to think of how things should have been. All Elizabeth knew in those moments were that her father was close by, and she should be making the most of his company after being seperated from him for so long.

The walk to her father's house seemed somehow much longer that day than it had been two days before. Perhaps it was because Elizabeth knew that she needed to apologise for her previous behaviour in the hopes that her father would consent to help her. Deep down she knew he would. What father could not feel guilt at having left his family to such a fate as residing in the Tower of London? Surely it must have plagued his mind since the moment he heard that his family had been captured. He had not even seen Elizabeth until long after her sixteenth birthday, when she was already married to Eric and grieving the unborn child that she had lost. It was a strange occurence to be within the presence of her own blood and to have never met them before. It had taken a long time for Elizabeth to forgive her father for abandoning them all, and even longer before she understood why he had fled. His constant letters were a great comfort to her because she and Eric were not often in Paris at all. Everything felt easier by letter too, because sometimes Elizabeth felt awkward around her father who tried to be the model parent when he had in fact only known her for six of her twenty two years. Letters forwent the awkward glances and silences, and gave them both time to think of the most appropriate reply.

The little house keeper let Elizabeth in as she too returned from a walk. On her arm she held a basket of fresh bread and meats. Elizabeth declined the offer of a chaperone to her father's study and bid the housekeeper to go about her work. She did not want an audience for her apology. The house did not feel different as she made her way upstairs and towards the study. She stopped at the turn of the staircase where she glimpsed the small yard at the back of the house from the tall window. Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation and disbelief. Her mother would not have consented to her father taking such a house. There was no garden for a start. Her mother loved gardens. She loved the grass underfoot and the flowers and the birds in the trees. she loved fresh air, which she got very little of inside the tower. Her mother had now sat out two boughts of the pestilence in London and Elizabeth marvelled that the woman had survived with such a poor constitution.

Elizabeth did not realise that something was wrong until she was half way accross the room, approaching her father's desk where it appeared he had fallen asleep. The dark doublet had disguised most of the blood but from yards away there could be no mistaking it for red ink. It was splattered across the scrolls of parchment on the desk, had even reached his feathered quill on the left of the table and matted one side of her father's head. He was leaning to one side in his chair, his face a vacant expression of nothingness. The pistol was clutched in his right hand as if he might spring back to life and wave it before them. For moments there was silence as Elizabeth froze in fear, not entirely comprehending what she was seeing. Her father was formidible to say the least. He had fought so long and so hard to maintain his good name, to secure a life for himself in France that it seemed such an erratic action for him to take his own life.

There was the sound of the door opening downstairs and of voices in the hallway. Elizabeth came to her senses as she realised that visitors had likely arrived to meet her father. The meek little housekeeper would be about to see the worst sight of her life. Elizabeth spun around, making for the door in haste to stop anyone else witnessing the outcome of her father's last act and also because she needed to be free of the room. If she were outside again she could pretend that it had not happened, that he was still waiting inside to greet her and hear her apology. She felt the tears welling in her eyes as she reached the door and barrelled through it to pull it shut on the other side. The housekeeper threw her a questioning look as she turned into the corridor and shuffled on past her, leading the visitors towards the room. Elizabeth could barely see for tears and barely walk as her determination left her.

She grabbed the houskeeper's wrist just as the woman would have passed her and would not let go. "You cannot...do not go in, do not see!" Elizabeth sank to her knees and felt the housekeeper stooping to try and help her up.

"D'artagnan, check the room!" It was with the voice that Elizabeth realised that the visitors were the musketeers. At length the four men left the corridor and entered her father's study and Elizabeth still sat on the floor, unblinking and unmoving. the cold crept in around her as shock set in and her limbs grew so stiff that the housekeeper could not pull her from the floor and into a chair. She tried to focus on the voices within the room to keep her mind working, her heart beating as the cold floorboards beneath her seemed to roll and float. She forced the dizziness away and managed to put the palms of her hands flat on the floor. She pushed herself up off her knees and back into the chair behind her, where she sat for an age. Tea was pressed into her limp hand but she set it on the floor behind one of the chair legs so as not to spill it. Someone left, to go and fetch the English ambassador she thought. The housekeeper was questioned by first a musketeer and then the English ambassador when he arrived but not one looked twice at Elizabeth.

Some of her men her father did business with arrived after a few hours and Elizabeth watched in growing alarm as they all traipsed into her father's study. there was an increasing nausea present as Elizabeth finally stood and ventured towards the doorway again. She did not want to see such a sight again, but she would have to in order to tell all of those men to leave. Her father's death was not some attraction for them all to view as entertainment. This was not the King's menagerie that they could visit for only three sou. Her weary feet took her over the threshold and into the freezing study, where men were conversing in small groups.

"Is there a need for such an audience?" Elizabeth asked the English ambassador. "Sir I understand that you must be here but these men are not even friends of my father's. They simply did business with him."

The man shrugged. "Some say they are owed money."

Elizabeth felt a spark of cold anger. "Well they may consider what they are owed, put it in writing and I will ensure that they receive a full repayment upon the amalgamation of my father's estate. This is not the time or the place! There is nothing here that may be sorted through today. Is a woman's grief of no consequence nowadays?"

The English ambassador opened his mouth to speak but he was interrupted by the gruff voice of the sullen musketeer who Elizabeth had a great dislike for. "The Madame is right, Mon seigneur ambassadeur. Under city law this man's estate must be calculated and his will read if there is one, before any benefactors may come calling. They cannot harass family members in a time of grief-"

"They are harassing no one!"

"I believe their mere presence is distressing this man's daughter Monsieur!" Athos nodded at Elizabeth and she did not know whether to thank him or throw him a look of contempt for daring to speak in her place. "I am sure if you wish to meet with the Madame you may make an appointment which she will be glad to uphold but as of a few moments ago this death was agreed upon as suspicious. Therefore the Madame is a witness and I cannot have you or anyone else distressing or influencing her. I need you all to leave. Apply to the Madame in writing for your appointment." He turned to Elizabeth then. "This is agreeable to you Madame?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply before she even knew what her reply would be. She was accustomed to having decisions taken out of her hands by her husband, and here was a stranger willing to do so for what was as yet an unknown reason. The look that the musketeer settled Elizabeth with told her that she should heed his words. She nodded stiffly, sure that if she opened her mouth to speak her tongue would give her anger away.

"Oh very well Athos," the English Ambassador sighed. "I'll send these men back to their offices, but I will require a report of your findings before the day is out. Madame, please do not think any actions of mine or these men here presumtuous. We are indeed very sorry for your loss."

With that he had left her side, and he shepherded the other men out into the corridor. Elizabeth turned back towards Athos with an angry retort on her lips, but it died there when she saw the far away look in his eyes. "They are vultures," he said quietly at last. "They will not give you a moment's peace Madame. Have your lawyer write up a retainer to keep them at bay for a few weeks at least."

So he had stepped in to preserve her time of mourning. There was something decidedly odd about the grumpy musketeer. Elizabeth shook the thought away. "You said there was something suspicious here. Are you permitted to tell me what?" His eyes yet again told her multitudes without his ever speaking. He'd lied about that too. Was it odd to wish that someone had harmed her father, for there were many that wanted to, rather than the tragedy being a taking of how own life? "I suppose you will need to get my account of all of this?" she asked blandly.

"Not today." His curt reply was in-keeping with his previous forms of speech. He clearly did not like her much, but was prepared to do the gentlemanly thing regardless. "We shall call upon you at a more convenient time when you have had time to recover yourself."

"I don't need to recover," Elizabeth replied. "I'd rather that you took my account now if it's all the same. It's fresh in my mind now. I have a habit of forgetting the important details sometimes, what with being ill and tired. I am at my most helpful now Monsieur."

The musketeer nodded once and Elizabeth told him how she had come upon her father and that she had not seen anyone suspicious in the street below. She told of how her father seemed of his usual spirits two days before and showed no signs of despair. Elizabeth walked the room to show him where she had stopped, indicating that she had not touched the table at all or any of it's contents. That was when she noticed it. It was indescribably hard to look, but look she did. Elizabeth gazed upon the prone form of her father and his glassy eyes that stared at nothing in particular.

"Perhaps it is suspicious after all," she murmured.

"How do you mean?" Porthos asked her from behind the table.

They were all looking at her then, and Elizabeth felt suddenly foolish, as if her very valid point had no use in such company, but she persevered. "Perhaps gentemen, you may wish to include in your report the inconsistency that appears before us. I do not claim to know a great deal of my father, apart from what I have from him in letters. I love him as a daughter does a father but there are a great deal of things I do not know about him. I do not know where he likes to walk, what wine he likes or which room he likes to sit in of an evening. All of these physical things are lost to me. Before today I did not even know with which hand he wrote. Perhaps you might try to explain to me how on earth my father writes with his left hand and shot himself with his right?"

There was silence as all four men turned their gaze upon the table. Sure enough, there was ink to be found on her father's left hand, from which he had produced some form of writing earlier that day.

* * *

 _ **Soooo, is Elizabeth's father ambidextrous or did someone kill him?**_

 _ **Please favourite/follow/review!**_


	7. Chapter Six - 29th June 1632

_**Whatfunny; you might be right there! ;)**_

 _ **We're about to find out a little about what Elizabeth's women's meetings are all about, and someone might be trying to dig into her life a little.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Six - 29th June 1632**_

"These petitions are the way forward for all of us ladies. I know some of you are apprehensive about speaking out, but if we do not then who will? We must lead the way because the poorer women of society will not know how to act or how to get on at all if we do not lead by example! Without our support they would be beaten and trampled upon. We must lead them because our place in society affords us some liberties. We have the right to speak and be heard; particularly at court!"

Elizabeth shook her head in bemusement as she watched Blanche de la Marche, the Comtesse of Toulouse parade across a set of tables that had been haphazardly shoved together in the run down tavern. She had payed handsomely for the use of such a space and as the proprietor was extremely short of funds he had relented. Everyone knew how hard it was to find adequate meeting places for the women because strictly speaking, they shouldn't have been meeting at all. If they were found out by red guards or musketeers they would all be marched off home to their husbands to await a punishment of said man's choosing. They also wouldn't be permitted to speak to one another again. But here the Comtesse was, brandishing her pamphlets as if they were the word of God and thrusting out her expensive silk skirts with every movement of her legs. These women might be congregating for the right reasons, but Blanche's theory was all wrong. Elizabeth did not point it out of course, because they all would have shouted her down. The women were petitioning for a petition in a way. They wanted there to be a regular course of action that their peers might take when they had the need to make a grievance known to the King's privy council. Elizabeth had differing views. She knew that most of the poorer women were more likely to speak up about something they believed in. They'd likely married a man of their own choosing which was a choice that had been taken away from the wealthy women at the meeting. The poorer women had real experience of what it was like to live life on the breadline to really suffer. Most of the women surrounding Elizabeth were able to ask their husbands for whatever money they needed and some even had a weekly allowance to spend on what they wished.

Elizabeth was sure that no common women would ever listen to a woman like Blanche. Poorer women were more inclined to hate her than look up to her. No, none of it would come to any good. And yet Elizabeth found herself sitting at the back of the room during one of the meetings, unable to resist the endless prattle that stopped her mind from thinking of all else. She hadn't been able to bare listening to Eric's endless worries about her fathers killer coming after him. His debts were endless and he now considered himself as the prime target. If it were true, then Elizabeth's father had died as a means to an end. She did not want to think of it that way. She could fairly see where Eric was getting her ideas from though. Unless an Englishman or an English agent had killed her father, Elizabeth could not think of anyone else who would wish to harm him. he'd built quite the life for himself and was well respected in Paris. No, Elizabeth could readily believe it all had something to do with Eric.

They had fought of course, when she had managed to slip away from her father's lodgings the day before and return home to tell her husband the news. Elizabeth wanted companionship and a kind word but instead Eric flew into a raging panic. He was not outraged by her father's death though. He was more worried about his own precarious position in Paris now that her father was not able to speak for him. They'd argued for hours until they were both horse and then Eric had dissapeared off into the night despite his fears. The morning had brought hostility and anxiousness for the couple before Eric had voiced his wish to leave Paris. They repeated the arguements of the day before and added new ones to further refine their points of view. In the end Elizabeth had fought her way out of the apartment with harsh words and angry looks. In the end the straw that broke the camels back was her telling Eric that when he did indeed next leave the city, she wasn't going with him.

It was his lack of even civility let alone sympathy for what she was going through that made the decision for her. She could no longer in all good grace continue her life with such a man. Many times she had thought their marriage to be at an end over the course of the last four years and now that it was finally at that turning point, she felt somehow free. Elizabeth stormed from the apartment in her mourning dress and went straight to speak with her father's lawyer to see if she could discover who her father had rented her apartment from. She knew she could not hear the reading of the will for perhaps months but she could at least try to ensure that they did not cut short the lease and leave her homeless. Remarkably, Elizabeth found that her father had placed the lease in her name and as such, there was nothing the landlord could do regarding her father's death unless she did not pay the rent.

Although she was relieved in a way, Elizabeth was still desperately sad about her father. Now she really was all alone in Paris. Listening to those brazen women pratlling on at the meeting only made her feel worse. When their husbands all came calling they would do the bidding of the man they had married. That was how things always ended. Elizabeth had been to enough similar meetings to know. When the meeting finally ended she was at a real loss as she did not wish to return home to argue with Eric again. It was having a poor affect on her nerves. The vials of laudinum and opiates clinking in her pocket as she walked made her long for vibancy and joy to lift her mood; and she knew just where to find it.

It was on the Rue du Petit Pont that she found the kind of party that she was looking for. Inside what appeared to be a crumbling old townhouse that had seen far better days in the distant past of Paris there often took place the debauched kind of parties that Elizabeth's father would have refused her entry to. At the age of twenty two she would still perhaps have been considered too young to attend such an establishment by many, but she had been to many opium dens across christendom and had seen things beyond even perhaps her husband's imagination. It was comical to Elizabeth really, that Eric thought she simply lay abed whilst he caused trouble all over Paris. She ventured out quite often at night when he was not home in search of entertainment of some kind. She was always careful to only go to places that had been recommended to her, and from where she could easily find her way home in the early hours of the morning. The particular party she had chosen attracted those revellers for whom the delights and intrigues of Paris court were not enough. Dukes and Comtesses languished on couches and smoked the drug through long pipes whilst young rakes who were the future of the nobility ran amok through the rooms, playing cards and chasing women of looser morals whilst they drank the drug in a form of a black liquid.

Elizabeth chose not to smoke the drug, for she knew before long that she would have to resort to only that method. Instead she drank some of the black liquid whilst also sipping a glass of wine. She lounged on a couch, placing her weight on one elbow as she watched the frivolity around the room. It was not an oppressive or threatening atmosphere, but an energetic one. No one was attending the party who did not want to be there, and even the young women of nobility around Elizabeth's own age seemed to gain some pleasure from just observing. The young women were not alone, and usually some young rogue was flirting with them relentlessly with no hope of succeeding. Elizabeth sometimes did consider that perhaps her wedding ring warned people against approaching her, but within very little time she was approached by a man not that much older than her. He was not intrusive or weird but he was very complimentary. They both chatted merrily for a time and their conversation made little sense really as they were both intoxicated but it made Elizabeth consider just how different a life she might have lead if she had given in to temptation and taken a lover. She might have found the companionship her marriage lacked, or at the very least she would have at least felt desirable as a woman again. It was not something she had ever really given too much thought to. She had always intended to be loyal to her husband even when things were extremely bad between herself and Eric. Perhaps it was the fate her mother had been dealt and her father's quick flight that had instilled within her some need to be the perfect spouse.

That part of her life was over now, and she was neither sad nor glad about it. To have a little freedom once Eric had taken his leave would be somehow almost bittersweet. Elizabeth's illness would soon render the point of being able to do as she pleased somehow useless. Perhaps if Eric knew the seriousness of her condition he might not have been so lax in his attentions of her, but the fact that he had managed to overlook the fact for so long made Elizabeth sure there was no love left between them. What did it really take, to ensure your husband's love and respect for all eternity? Elizabeth did not want Eric's sympathy or care because she was ill. She wanted a husband in every form and she wanted back the man she had married at sixteen years old. That was not to be though, and so she found herself being propositioned by the young French Comte who had no shame. When he was refused, he took Elizabeth's well meaning apology in good humour and more than likely would have stayed where he was to chat with her if he was not interrupted and sent on his way.

Harry de Vere sat down beside Elizabeth on her lonely couch, still scowling at the Comte who was now meandering through the crowded room towards the card tables. "They should learn some manners, this lot!"

Elizabeth shook her head at her brother in law. "Harry he meant no harm! He was perfectly polite."

"Meant no harm? Elizabeth you're wearing a wedding ring!"

Elizabeth scoffed. "For goodness sake Harry, that's never stopped you in the past!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know I only tease you. I don't mean any of it."

"Don't you?" Elizabeth asked pointedly. "I might have been fool enough to marry Eric when I was younger but I am not fool enough to believe that Harry!"

"What are you doing here anyway?" Harry asked as he poured her another glass of wine from the bottle he had brought with him.

"Same as you, trying to find some entertainment for an evening!" Elizabeth watched her brother in law closely as he moved closer to her on the couch when another gruop of young men entered the room and spared them a glance.

"You should be at home with your husband. Eric's behaviour towards you is ridiculous! The fact you're left to wonder the streets alone does not do credit to the upbringing that my brother and I had. I've a mind to have a word with him!"

Elizabeth sighed heavily and leaned in to Harry's side, glad to have some familiar company for a moment or two. "You already have had a word with him Harry. Lets be honest though, would you have treated me any better? Look at you, still unmarried and combing the opiate dens for a parterner for the evening! I remember what you were like back then too Harry! Eric was by far the better prospect!"

"I haven't found the right woman to marry yet," harry mused. "You can ask any woman I spend time with though, and they will tell you that I'm the perfect gentleman and they are all treated very well. Just because I'm a bit of a rake and I've been with more than enough women doesn't mean I don't have morals. I don't lead women on Bess, as well you know. When you were first brought to our home from the tower you were still a child. I wasn't going to impose upon you. Would I have taken you as my wife, yes gladly! You preferred Eric for his quiet sensibility though and look where you are now! Perhaps you made the wrong decision back then, for when I do take a wife I will be the most perfectly loyal husband there ever could be. I'm allowed to enjoy my life as a bachelor until then."

"I chose Eric because I considered him to be the lesser of two evils," Elizabeth supplied.

"Evils?" Harry cried. "That's a strong word Bess."

"Stop calling me that, you know I don't like it!" Elizabeth swatted Harry's arm lightly in warning. "I suppose evil is a strong word and in regards to yourself it is unfair, but you know how I felt back then Harry! I was fourteen and I'd spent my whole life in the tower only to be released into the care of a family who were only taking charge of me because they'd been promised that I'd marry one of their sons! I suppose I cannot blame you and Eric or your sisters for what passed back then. Our parents were all the ones at fault, thrusting us young people onto paths we had never considered ours before."

"That marriage saved your life Elizabeth. Do not look upon it so ungaciously." Harry moved then, his arm coming to rest behind Elizabeth's shoulders on the back of the couch. If you wanted a future with more freedom you should have married me. Eric has rather closeted you, and you being ill doesn't warrant it in any way. I think of the times I've seen you both and you always appear in better health for being out in the world."

"Well there will be much more of that from now on Harry," Elizabeth confirmed. "It seems our marriage is at breaking point. Eric desires to leave Paris. I have told him that when he does I am not going with him."

Harry seemed shocked at her announcement. "You mean you've chosen to seperate?"

"I am a loyal wife to your brother Harry, but he is not a loyal husband. I never talked of separation, he did. I told him I was staying in Paris but I did not ask for a divorce or an annulment. God knows I could afford neither even if I did want to take that course of action. No, I think it was more that Eric saw how tired I am of travelling all the time, and of how determined I am to stay here against his better judgement. He sees within me a new sense of independence and it worries him. Thus his mind jumps to a separation. If that's what he wants he can have it. It makes no difference to me after all."

Harry shook his head. "I never did believe that Eric ever wanted things to end that way between you both Elizabeth. He wanted that happy marriage unit as much as you did. If our father finds out about it, he won't be pleased!"

Elizabeth bristled a little. "Oh I don't care what your father thinks Harry! I'm no longer willing to adhere to the demands of those who want whats 'best' for us. The truth is that it was all about money!"

"I'm not having this discussion with you when you're in such a state Elizabeth! You're grieving and you're out of your mind with this poppy juice! I'm guessing you swallowed some amount of your tonics before you came here too! That's not a healthy mixture! I'm taking you home so you can sleep it off and I'll call on you tomorrow when you've a clearer head. This business with your father is rotten, but you cannot think that this behaviour will help in any way?"

Harry made a grab for her arm but Elizabeth slid across the couch out of his reach. "i'm fine Harry, just leave me alone!"

"Ican't leave you in this state!"

"You've left me in worse states, you and your brother!" Elizabeth snarled.

Harry shook his head, suddenly furious. "If this is about Italy, I've already told you-"

"Yes, yes you didn't know I was there...blah blah blah. Go on with you Harry. I don't want to go back to an empty apartment to squander away in my misery. I'd rather stay here and watch other people's merriment. just go home Harry, and leave me be."

He said nothing, only shaking his head at her incredulously before he took up his coat and left her. Elizabeth was glad of his leaving even if she did regret her harsh words. Harry was too close to Eric though to ever really be on her side. It was a shame she did not have her own brothers with her, for they would have understood her sentiments. She had been unable to compose a letter to them or her mother yet. No doubt her mother would have been informed of her husband's death by now because news could travel remarkably fast across the channel when it wanted to. Elizabeth would have preferred the news to come from her own letter, where her mother would read it in an empathetic hand of her own daughter. Elizabeth did not have that kind of sensitivity within her yet to sit down to write such a letter. If Harry had been nicer she might have asked for his help but it did not escape her notice that he only mentioned her father's death in reference to her own grief. He had not offered his condolences or sympathetic wishes. The de Vere men were all quite fickle like that.

Elizabeth slid the tumbler of black liquid away from her then, suddenly too weary to drink any more of it. Instead she finished her wine whilst the room around her emptied as the lateness of the hour grew. Eventually she found the good sense within her to go home. She stumbled a little as she crossed the threshold back out into the street and righted herself before turning the street corner. She almost walked into two women that were in much the same inebriated state as she was. They took it in good humour and waved off her apology with laughter. Elizabeth threw them a small smile as she passed on but could not bring herself to laugh along with them. She wound around another corner and stumbled, her ankle twisting in her heeled shoes. She was not sharp enough to catch herself this time and braced herself for a fall, but it never came. She found herself suspended in mid-air, with strong hands clutching at her upper arms from behind.

Her first initial thought was that Harry had not left the party at all, but had simply waited outside to follow her home. There was not the abundant scent of expensive aftershave though which Harry always carried with him. Elizabeth felt herself righted again and she spun around only to find the face of the scowling musketeer before her eyes. If she had been any taller, the brim of his hat would have cast too much of a shadow over his face to be recognisable but from her vantage point Elizabeth could readily see his displeased frown.

"Madame, you are alone?" he asked stiffly.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Of course I am! Do you see anyone else with me? Might a woman not have a care for her own company from time to time?"

She intended to move away from him then but found herself rooted in place. Then she noticed that he had taken hold of her arms again somehow without her notice. "Not at this time of night Madame-" he began but as his eyes flitted over her face he hesitated. "Madame you do not look well; have you taken too much of something?"

Elizabeth wrenched her arms from his grip and turning, she began to walk away. "It's none of your business," she supplied warily as she marched on, feeling as if she suddenly had a renewed sense of purpose to get home. Elizabeth had thought she was walking quite quickly until the musketeer fell into step beside her, his long and slow strides telling her that she must be dawdling. "You cannot follow me!" She snarled at him before trying to pick up her pace a little.

"Madame I also cannot leave you. I have an obligation to ensure you make it across the river in one piece. You must understand, you've suffered a loss and appear incapable of rational thought. Therefore I have a responsiblity to ensure you return to your lodgings safely." His hesitation was unmissable. "If however my company is undesirable for you I can appeal to my comrades at the garrison, and someone else might escort you home?"

Elizabeth scoffed. "What and wake them all up at this hour? What about Porthos, the one who resembles a pirate; would he be awake? Or even home at such an hour? No, he seems the mischevious type so he will be up to no good I expect. Well for him. More enjoyment should be hand in the world. Now I must ask you to leave me. You really can have no worry for me. I'll be home and abed before this half hour is out."

She thought he rolled his eyes but couldn't be sure. "Madame as I have already iterated, I cannot do that. I must ask you to permit me to walk with you. These streets are not safe so late at night."

Elizabeth carried on walking and with each step that she took, she felt her anger rise. "And who are you, musketeer; to order me around? Do you know, I am sick and tired of men thinking they have the authority to dictate how a woman must wear her hair or which colour of new dress she picks; or of what books she reads or who she may speak to! Do not think I have forgotten that you took it upon yourself to speak for me yesterday when I had never asked you to do so! The only man who may do such things is my husband! My-"

"And where is he Madame, at such a time as this when you walk the streets unchaperoned and clearly not of your right mind?"

"I don't like you very much - what is your name?"

"Athos, Madame."

"Athos, I do not like you at all. Speak with my husband if you take such an issue. I do not have to explain myself to a musketeer, least of all a sullen one with no manners at all whatsoever!"

He was watching the side of her face intently as they continued to walk, the bridge that would take them across the Seine almost upon them. "Madame my manners lie in my walking you home to ensure that no harm befalls you. Do not expect more from me when you continue to condone the actions of your husband."

"If you must know," Elizabeth snapped. "My words of cation have no affect whatsoever on my husband! I have never condoned his behaviour but I cannot stop him from doing as he pleases!"

They were crossing the bridge when Athos next spoke. "Might I enquire as to your age Madame?"

"Why does my age matter?" she bristled as she turned to look at him. He glanced away as she did so, and Elizabeth felt belittled by his attitude towards her.

"Because I overheard your conversation with the young man who offered to walk you home some time ago."

Elizabeth stopped walking and turned to face him, shock and anger marring her features. "You were at that party?"

"I was there for my own reasons, to observe a character wholly unrelated to you Madame. I could not help overhearing the end of your conversation. Who was the man?"

"You ask rather a lot of questions Monsieur, when you do not even know me at all! You are a stranger, a musketeer. What right have you to ask a gentleman's wife those sorts of questions?"

"I ask your age because within you there was a sense of resiliance and understanding upon your features when the man asked if he could see you home. Neither of you spoke of it, but there was some undercurrent there that I sensed. You knew perhaps that his intentions were not the purest. It seems a rare and rather smart conclusion for one so intoxicated to make, and forgive me but your appearance implies that you might not yet be old enough or wise enough for such coherent thoughts even when sober."

Elizabeth wanted to laugh suddenly at his backhanded compliment, if that was what it was. She started walking again and they reached the end of the bridge and carried on. If Athos recalled that he had promised only to see her to the other side of the bridge, he did not mention it. "The man is my brother in law Monsieur Athos," Elizabeth said lightly then. "When I was released from the Tower of London I was handed over into the custody of the de Vere family. I was the only one of my family thought to be impressionable. They thought that my mother and brothers were too far gone, but that I could be moulded and shaped and thus no longer in need of incarceration. I was released when my mother paid the de Vere's to take me into their care on the promise that I would marry one of their sons." Why Elizabeth had told him she did not know, for surely she had mentioned as much the first evening that the mukseteers had searched her lodgings and even if she hadn't, all he had to do was a little research to find it all out. "And I am two and twenty..." she added as an afterthought.

He nodded and was silent. It made Elizabeth nervous. "What, my age displeases you?"

"I would not have considered you to be that age by your appearance or manner, that is all. Although two and twenty is still remarkably young."

"Do you speak in terms of my husband?" Elizabeth queried. "He is older than me but not by so great a number of years."

"Old enough for there to be discord between you though," Athos mused.

Elizabeth scowled at him and chose to say nothing. They walked on in silence until they reached the street of Elizabeth's lodgings. "You can leave me now. I can walk these ten steps to my door without aid!" Elizabeth announced as she strode ahead. She suddenly had it in mind that she should thank him for his courtesy. She did not like the man but propriety stated that as he had ensured her safety, he was due some appreciation. The words were upon her lips as she glanced up towards her lodgings when she stopped still in the middle of the street, the sight that met her eyes sending a feeling of sickening dread into the pit of her stomach.

"Madame?" the musketeer had stopped a few steps ahead of her and turned back to ascertain why she had stopped.

Elizabeth couldn't speak. She stared ahead at the doorway of her lodgings, where her own husband stood with his arms clutched around the waist of another woman, his mouth pressed to hers in an unmistakable passionate kiss. Elizabeth had suspicions about Eric's fidelity, but it had never been confirmed before. It took a moment for Athos to follow her eye line and witness what she saw as Eric pulled away from the woman and unlocked the door of the lodgings to drag the woman inside.

Athos opened his mouth to speak and Elizabeth held up a hand to stop him, suddenly weary of him altogether. "I thank you for your kindness in walking me home Monsieur Athos, and beg you not to speak of this to anyone." With that Elizabeth left him standing in the middle of the street and ploughed ahead towards the steps. At the top of the steps she turned to find the musketeer still watching her but his expression was now hidden by the wide brim of his hat. Elizabeth knew he would not leave until he had seen her safely inside so she let herself into her lodgings and closed the door over until she could glimpse the street through the tiniest crack. Finally the musketeer turned and left the street the way he had come with her. She left the lodgings hastily, taking the steps two at a time until she reached the street again. With no real friends in Paris she had no choice but to go in search of Harry, who she knew would be at the card tables still. It worried her a little to be around company early in the mornings for that was when she was most unwell, but she had little choice and Harry would not take much notice if she told him it was a simple cold.

* * *

 _ **What did you think of Harry; is he good or bad?**_

 _ **In the next chapter, Elizabeth finally decides what and who she wants, but will she get it?**_


	8. Chapter Seven - 3rd July 1632

_**Whatfunny: we'll find out more about Harry soon!**_

 _ **So this is the chapter where we find out who Elizabeth's love interest is. I don't know whether this is going to disappoint or please but it's just the way I found the story flowing! This story is all written so I can safely say there's reason for the pairing in later chapters!**_

 _ **As always, let me know what you think!**_

 _ **I'm on holiday next week so it might be a week or two until I can update this.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Seven - 3rd July 1632**_

There was still anger and frustration hanging in the air. It was extremely early in the morning, but Elizabeth had been awake for hours. She'd woken to wracking coughs as usual, but they'd been much worse that morning. It was all down to the stress of the evening before. She truly felt there was no way back for herself and Eric after the argument that had taken place the evening before. Elizabeth had reiterated her wishes to stay in Paris after Eric left, and she had finally told him how she really felt. He now knew that she thought their marriage entirely over and that she had contemplated leaving him for some months now. Despite knowing that she should be glad to finally be free and proud that she had taken such a stance for herself, Elizabeth could not help the empty feeling that was settling over her as she sat on the floor of the parlour in her nightgown. Things were rather untidy, as Eric had spent most of the evening ransacking every cupboard and drawer in search of any of his belongings that he might have forgotten about. Elizabeth suspected he had also taken some of her jewellery. He'd certainly left with more luggage than he'd arrived with in Paris. Their rule had always been to travel light but Eric had clearly forgone that conclusion to take as much as he could of Elizabeth's own money.

The lodgings felt empty now. There was still furniture and her belongings but Elizabeth felt as if she was intruding upon someone else's home. She could not place the sensation in her stomach either. She did not quite know how to describe how she felt about being single again. Of course, others would not see her as that. She would be pitied and mocked as a woman who could not keep her husband. No matter the real details, in circumstances like her own, Elizabeth knew that the woman was always seen to be at fault. They would say that she had not been able to satisfy Eric, and in some ways that was true. Eric had not been satisfied for more than a few years though and it was partly of his own making. If he'd not pulled away from her so after she'd lost their child then they might have been able to recover their relationship a little. It was not to be though. Elizabeth should have felt liberated. That was a word they used at those women's meetings. Elizabeth could not bring herself to feel that way, as she still grieved for what she could have had with Eric if they had both tried harder. Deep down within her she knew that there was not more that she could have done but little thoughts niggled at her mind over the course of the night that made her doubt herself. Eric had always wanted her to think that she was at fault where their strained relationship was concerned.

Unable to sleep, Elizabeth had decided to return to the parlour to say goodbye to Eric, but he'd already left. He'd somehow managed to sneak out without making a sound and now Elizabeth was entirely alone. She did not have a friend to speak of, and her mother and brothers were locked away in the tower. That was it, she was alone. It was a sobering thought. She'd always considered herself as tied to Eric for the rest of her life. She'd have been in his shadow, following his instructions to the letter and abiding his every rule. Now she had no place without a husband. society would frown upon her. Perhaps that might have served to bother her if she had been in better health.

There was nothing else for Elizabeth to do but try and define the time she would have left in Paris. She sorted through what little belongings she had to see what she could sell on and as much as she hated the thought of going out into the world, she forced herself to dress and venture out. There were no funny looks; no laughter followed her and no one stopped her to badger her with questions about Eric. She didn't quite know why, but Elizabeth had expected everyone to know, to have seen in her eyes that her husband had left her and to look down on her because of it. instead she was able to amble through the Paris streets alone at a leisurely pace. This left her time to really think about what had happened the evening before and compartmentalise it. When she really considered it, there was nothing stopping her from remaining in Paris indefinitely apart from her illness. Once she had heard the reading of her father's will she would be free to go where she pleased provided she had the finances.

At length Elizabeth found herself at home again, at a loss for what to do in the empty lodgings. It really brought it home to her how little she really had to her name. She doubted she had much more than her mother and brothers had in the tower. It was not a material lack of wealth that she felt, but more that she had lived in the free world for six years and she had not a thing that she cherished because it brought back happy memories or because it was something she loved to wear. She had no connection to any of her belongings whatsoever. It was a sobering thought that after she was gone from the world there would be little left of her that actually meant something in her life. There was her wedding ring of course, but she'd torn it from her hand the evening before and thrown it at Eric. It had missed his head by mere inches and had somehow found it's way into the corner of the room. It was no longer where it had landed, so Elizabeth knew that Eric must have taken it.

Unable to shake the depressing thoughts, within a short while Elizabeth was venturing out again with a much more determined sense of purpose. She knew it was still early, but there would be parties already beginning somewhere within the city in some grand house or other that she could gain admittance to.

Elizabeth couldn't quite place her feelings. She had once again found herself in the house she had frequented a few times since her father's death. She couldn't decide whether she was avoiding Harry de Vere or wanted to see him and so she found herself in one of his regular haunts, hidden in the corner of the room as she and everyone around her imbibed in rather too much alcohol and opiates. With a deep sense of sadness hanging over her and a pressure on her chest, Elizabeth brushed off the offer of opiates and sipped on some wine instead as she watched the young people around the room enjoying themselves. It felt as if she was older than them, so far removed when in fact many of them were quite a few years older than her. Elizabeth had been married for six years though and she was quickly coming to realise that she had sacrificed a lot of enjoyment for Eric's sake. That thought didn't make her want to jump up and join in with the antics playing out before her though. It was in fact a lesson. Elizabeth was beginning to realise that perhaps Eric had isolated her on purpose. She'd barely been able to make a real connection with someone she might have eventually considered a friend when Eric would pick her up and drag her off again to somewhere new. Most of the time they had no choice but to leave, but Elizabeth could readily recall instances where Eric had prevented her from going out. Had he really become so hard hearted?

The hours wiled on and darkness fell as Elizabeth gazed out of the window into the street. The hustle and bustle of the Latin quarter gave way to the revellers that would roam the streets until sunset, seeking a release from whatever torment they faced in the daylight hours. Elizabeth had cautioned herself to pace her drinking as she was feeling ill, but before long she had consumed two bottles of wine without paying much attention and had begun her third. Harry made no appearance but she was not surprised. Harry was the kind of man who went to a different party every night and had three different women waiting for him at each party. The red wine had instilled a sense of bravery within Elizabeth, so much so that when she saw a familiar face across the crowded room she stood up and called the musketeer over to her over everyone else's heads.

Athos threw her a stern glance as he made his way over, clearly upset at having been so brusquely summoned. "Have you no other business to attend to Monsieur? Must you follow me here again?"

His patience was tested, Elizabeth could tell. "Madame, I did not follow you here in the first instance, nor this second. I was here on other business."

"Go and attend to it then and leave me be!" Elizabeth roared despite knowing full well she had called the musketeer to her.

"My business is now concluded for the evening Madame," Athos supplied coolly. "I do wonder if yours is only just beginning though? I heard tell that a woman's meeting took place a few streets away this afternoon that became quite violent. The group separated to reconvene later. Perhaps you are here awaiting orders from your comrades?"

Elizabeth snorted. "What meeting? No, I heard not of one. They wouldn't want me involved anyway. No, you'd better look elsewhere if you want to find conspirators. All you will find here are drunkards."

Instead of leaving, Athos took a seat on the opposite side of the table and Elizabeth frowned at him. "Madame I am well aware all here are drunk, as are you! Have you not a husband that might take you home?"

"How dare you!" Elizabeth wanted to jump out of her seat and stand over him as she shouted, but she knew she would likely topple over and that would really loose her all momentum over the man. "Might a woman not drink and return home of her own accord? Why on earth do we always need a man's permission? Why may we not look after ourselves? Let me tell you Monsieur musketeer, we do a much better job ourselves than our husbands ever have! If you'd ever been married then you'd have some understanding of that!"

His face changed then, from mere annoyance to something entirely different. It was a carefully controlled rage. "I have been married Madame," was all the reply that he offered.

"Hmm, well you know then how capable women are."

He nodded stiffly. "Madame I'm well aware of just what women are capable of when left to their own devices. That is why I do not believe you when you say you did not attend a meeting this afternoon. I think you are lying to try to cover for some friends of yours!"

"Friends?" Elizabeth cried. "I have no friends Monsieur! Those women are not my friends. Indeed I never did profess to like them at all! I am a woman of modern beliefs and fully support the campaigns for women's rights that are happening all over the country. I will not lie and say I have never been to any meetings before today as I have. Their speeches amused me. I was not at a meeting today however. I have been ousted from their ranks for reasons as yet unknown."

"Be that as it may Madame, you are alone and extremely intoxicated. I also have reason to believe you may disturb the peace if you were to meet with another woman from these meetings so I'm afraid I must escort you home-"

"What sort of game are you playing musketeer?" Elizabeth had finally managed to get to her feet albeit very unsteadily and pulled her coat closer around herself. "Do you mean to spy on me, or my husband? Is that what all of this is about? Walking me home again, when there was no need for you to do so the first time and even less need this time? I'm taking a carriage home so there will be no need for your assistance this evening."

With that Elizabeth began to move, winding her way between the clusters of tables and chairs around the room all the while still aware of the man moving closely behind her. "Don't you dare follow me," she snarled over her shoulder at him as she crossed the threshold out into the street. Of course Elizabeth had no intentions of hailing a hackney to take her back to her lodgings as she couldn't spare the coin so she hurried on towards the street corner, hoping she could loose the musketeer in a crowd of young dandies that were dallying up ahead. She skirted through them all easily and turned down a side street. From there she broke into a run that she knew she would pay for later and left the Latin quarter behind for the Pont Notre-Dame that took her back over the river. Only when she had reached the Rue de la Coutellerie and was out of sight of the river did Elizabeth think to slow her pace a little. Towards the end of the street she came to a stop altogether, her breath frozen somehow in her chest. She gasped in air that would not flow down into her lungs as she began to sway from side to side unwillingly. The wracking coughs began then, and all that Elizabeth could desperately think as she heard footsteps coming towards her _'Not here, please not here...'_

Perhaps she should have let the musketeer take her home, simply to forgo the predicament and distress she now found herself in. Tears sprang to her eyes partly from humiliation but mostly from the pain that was increasing in her chest. She tried to breathe normally even though she desperately wanted to suck in large breaths and flood her lungs with the cool air. The fog that had descended before her eyes abruptly cleared and Elizabeth remembered where she was, only a few streets away from the river. She turned towards the approaching footsteps and glared with as much intensity as she could muster even though she had to lean back against the wall behind her to stop the world from spinning. The musketeer was striding towards her with a bored expression painted on his face. Elizabeth thought the expression must have been deliberate because he was anything from bored; she could tell by his eyes. They were cold and hard and fiercely angry.

"I don't recall giving you permission to follow me musketeer! Do you not think perhaps your actions might be seen as disturbing? Following me around as if I'm some sort of criminal!"

He stopped before her, standing far too close for Elizabeth's liking and she squirmed under what she found to be the most uniquely intense gaze she had ever seen. He could be a powerful man if he wanted to, that she could tell by the way he stood. "Madame, I would chase you all over Paris if I had to, to ensure that you were returned safely home. It is not customary for a gentleman to leave a woman alone to wander the streets when she is clearly upset and intoxicated. Regardless of my dealings with your husband or any of your friends, I was intending to see you into a carriage before you sped off. You never did plan to take a carriage home did you?"

Elizabeth pushed herself off the wall and stood to her full height even though the way he was looking down at her reminded her very much of someone she had known a long time ago, someone who had belittled and coerced her. "It appears that I spent all of the coin I had in my purse," she answered haughtily. "It is no matter though. It is a pleasant and clear night. I thought nothing of walking back to my lodgings and wished to do so in peace. I did not wish for a recurrence of last time, when you badgered me all the way there! As you have correctly surmised I am indeed upset and wanted some time to myself."

"Then with all due respect Madame you should have taken rooms somewhere in the city where you might have found solitude, but walking the streets of the Latin quarter I have no choice but to escort you home. If something were to happen to you; heaven forbid but if it did, we might be held accountable as my regiment is investigating your husband."

He struck his arm out towards hers, and for a moment Elizabeth thought Athos was going to take her in a vice like grip and drag her. Instead the hold he took of her upper arm was firm but gentle and he began to walk, leaving Elizabeth little choice but to follow. She could see his seething anger bubbling just below the surface, and she had no idea what he would be capable of if he snapped. She had seen men snap before of course, and heard them. She remembered cold dank nights in the tower when she could not sleep for the screams and cries of the man held in the room below them. He went slowly mad. He was there long before her mother and brothers were sent to the tower, and died not long after Elizabeth had been released. It had been frightening, but it was not the man that had frightened her. No, Elizabeth had felt for him, and she had felt his pain keenly. It was the madness that had overtaken him that frightened her. Whilst she and her family were allowed a daily walk before sunrise in the mornings, and often Elizabeth would get the chance for another in the evening when a certain visitor came, the man in the room below them was never permitted to leave his room. He never had visitors and the warden had told him the conditions he lived in were dire. In the beginning her mother had put a little food aside and placed a few coins in the bottom of the basket for the man. She had thought perhaps it might enable him to purchase a blanket or something of the kind, but the warden had told them later on that night that the gift had not been gratefully received. They hadn't needed to take his word for it. They'd heard the screams. They had heard how the man attacked the stone walls of his prison in such a violent manner that he had to be restrained. Her mother offered no more gifts after that. There was truth in what was said of the tower though, money made incarceration there that much more bearable.

Men; people in fact could snap so easily. Elizabeth had come to realise she had offended the musketeer when she assumed he had not been married before. She wondered why that was as they walked in silence for a time. Perhaps he had not been a very good husband. Perhaps he really did have a bad tempter. Then she chastised herself. Just because she had a bad experience of husbands did not mean that all were terrible. Perhaps it was the wife who had not been good. Maybe she had been the one with the temper. nevertheless, he was certainly angry now. Elizabeth wasn't about to apologise to the musketeer, for she had not liked him at all since they had met and he'd been uncommonly rude to her at times.

"How does your investigation of my husband go?" she asked blandly as they entered the Marais.

"Would it be wise of me to inform you of our findings?" Athos asked her and Elizabeth found she could hear amusement in his tone.

"Why should you not? I think I have a right to know! I think I know my husband well Monsieur and I do not think you shall uncover anything I do not already know. If there is something though, do you not think I have a right to know as I am married to the man."

He shook his head incredulously. "You know your husband well Madame? Yes that's right, you were entirely expecting to find him upon your doorstep in the embrace of another woman these four nights past weren't you?"

Athos had stopped walking to gauge her reaction, and she faltered a little as she thought she almost saw pity in his gaze. "Monsieur I know my husband is not faithful. I have always known. I did not think he would bring it into our home, that's all."

"And what do you expect to find upon your return tonight Madame? Is this the reason for your excessive libations?"

"He won't be there Monsieur," Elizabeth sighed, hoping he would delve no further. "He's not at home."

Athos was still staring at her, and Elizabeth turned to walk on, but his grip of her arm held her in place. "He's left you hasn't he?"

Elizabeth shook off his grip of her arm, suddenly needing to put some distance between herself and the musketeer. "It was a mutual decision."

Elizabeth had to stop herself from saying more. She didn't quite know what it was that made her want to divulge it all to a stranger, but perhaps it was a testament to how drunk she was, and how she lacked a friend to confide in. She knew though that the musketeer no more wanted to hear her tale of woe than she wanted to tell it to him. "And yet you're out alone, in quite a sorry state. It seems to me that you are more upset than a mutual decision gives credit for Madame."

Elizabeth was taken aback by his abrupt response. She scoffed a little at him as he finally resumed walking. "Am I not permitted to be upset that my marriage is at an end Monsieur? I have known for some time it was coming to an end, but to be here at that end is quite something else." She found herself babbling, not caring that he was likely burning a hole in the musketeer's ear. If he was going to make such statements, then she would endure boring him with the story. "For the last four years Eric and I lived as brother and sister practically. We were companionable at times, at each others throats the next moment. The love was gone though. That I was certain of."

"Does someone stay with you?"

Elizabeth thought it a curious question and hid her shock behind a well-timed cough. "Why should they? I'm not a child Monsieur. I do not need someone consoling me in the early hours. I am perfectly happy. I am liberated now. I have no reason to need companionship."

He nodded at her reply and was silent for a few more minutes. "I suppose you are grateful that there are no children involved then," he mused. "That would make such a separation all the more harder. I know I was."

Elizabeth had no reply for her heart had plummeted into her stomach. He knew that his words had upset her as the pain of the last four years washed over Elizabeth's face. "I do not think that's an appropriate question Monsieur," she whispered thinly. She was free of his hold now. She stepped decidedly away from him as if to turn down a side street. "I really do think that all of this is inappropriate now Monsieur. I must ask you to leave me now. I can make my own way from here. It is only a street away. I cannot allow you to accompany me any further."

"Madame I cannot permit you to-"

"PERMIT ME?" who the hell do you think you are?" Elizabeth shoved his chest with the flat of her palm but he barely flinched. "You follow me around like I'm some sort of criminal, insulting me as if I'm some street rat, and what's more you are mocking me! I shall make a complaint about you Monsieur and...and..."

Elizabeth lost her train of thought as Athos approached her and she backed into the wall of the dark alleyway, suddenly sure that she had made him snap. He was so angry, staring down at her as if she were the most insipid and despicable child he'd ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat again and Elizabeth feared she would have another attack, although it would fairly shock the man before her. He was looming ever closer, his eyes locking with hers in such a way that Elizabeth could not look away at all. It was then that she realised it was not anger she saw there, but hunger. His eyes flitted between her mouth to her eyes as she felt his breath on her face.

"...What...what on earth do you think you are doing Monsieur?" she whispered as he came closer still.

Then his lips crashed onto hers with force, and Elizabeth grabbed his shoulders to try and push him off. He tasted sweet, but his actions were not so. Elizabeth had never been kissed that way in her six years of marriage. She had never been kissed that way in all of her life. Harry had stolen a kiss from her once, before she married Eric. It had been exciting and different to what she knew, but this was something else entirely. There was so much anger and pain in the kiss that Elizabeth stopped pushing him away. She didn't have the heart to when he clearly had such passion inside of him. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and she gave it even as she told herself it was all wrong. His hands were on her waist, pushing her back into the wall as he stood over her, and she felt her feet lifting so that she stood on tip-toe with her neck craned to reach him. Then there was no air. Elizabeth tried to pull away but he would not let her. She thumped his chest hard three times and he was gone. He stepped back into the alleyway as she coughed and gasped.

"I cannot breathe..." Elizabeth clawed at the top of her bodice as if that would somehow flood her lungs and shook her head at Athos. "I cannot do this Monsieur. We cannot. I have a husband-"

"A husband who has left you Madame?" He stepped closer then, tracing his fingers across the side of her face as she let tears escape her eyes. "Tell me you do not want it, and I'll walk away right now. I'll not even accompany you to your door. You'll not see me again. Tell me."

Elizabeth couldn't. There was something within her that just could not tell him to leave. She wanted him to, and she didn't. "What do you take me for Monsieur? I am not what you think! My husband might be unfaithful but I am not! I have only ever been with him. I am not what you want. I am not...I have never..."

"I take you as I see you before me now Madame." Athos brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "A soul in pain, as I am. You have a goodness in you which your husband does not. I never suspected a thing of you. Your eyes are too kind, for you have seen too much pain and despair to want any more in the world. No Madame, believe me when I say I see you only as you are. Do you not think perhaps you might need this just as much as I do?"

Elizabeth gaped at him, at his audacity. She she could not argue with the point he made. Could she need to be with someone again? Would it help? It was as she had said, she'd only ever been intimate with her husband, and their marriage bed had been a cold one those past four years. She was single now was she not; alone too? How was she to brave the time she had left in Paris? Would it not feel good to spend an hour or two with someone, to experience something again. There was the morning to think of though. If he did not leave until then, he would see her at her worst. The mornings were full of wracking coughs and sickness of a kind that would surely cure his attraction to her. Then she realised that it didn't matter. One night, that was it. It did not matter what came the next day or the day after. hadn't she been trying to live in the moment for months?

"I do not know what you expect from me?" she asked him then, and his expression changed again to something that was akin to kindness.

"Madame, I expected nothing. I think perhaps you should be want to be expecting of me."

Elizabeth shook her head quickly. The thought to doubt the man before her had never entered her head. "Monsieur I do not think so. I do think you may be disappointed in me. I'm not-"

He was kissing her again, so fiercely that her head collided with the wall behind her. Then he was moving, dragging her along in his wake towards her lodgings. "Madame if this is what you want I need to to tell me. I will not come inside if you do not wish me to." They were walking at an alarming pace and reached her lodgings in no time at all. They were both panting with exertion and expectation. Athos stopped before the steps and looked down at her, clearly desperate for her to give him an answer.

She did not care for any humiliation she might face suddenly. Was she not planing to leave Paris anyway? "Alright. Alright."

He nodded at her, and they ascended the steps together. Elizabeth unlocked the door with more haste than ever before and then they were racing up the stairs to the first floor. They tore through the parlour and into the corridor that led to her bedroom. Once in the doorway though, Elizabeth stopped. She did not know how to do it. She had never done so reckless a thing in her life and it terrified her but she wanted it all the same. Athos pushed past her into the room and tuned to face her.

"Madame if this is not-"

"My name is Elizabeth! Call me Elizabeth."

He nodded. "Tell me what you want Elizabeth. Do you wish for the love and tenderness of a husband or-"

"No I don't want that," she suddenly decided. "I want something else. I want this as it is. I want the unknown and the reckless, which is exactly what this is. I want..." Images flooded Elizabeth's mind and she knew not how to phrase what she wanted. She did not even know if it would be right of her to say such things.

"Tell me..." he whispered so gently that she could do nothing else but look into his eyes. "Tell me what it is you want, so that I may give it to you. Explain it to me. Do not think I will shocked by what you say Elizabeth."

She tried to find her words, letting the images slip away so that she could think clearly. "I've never... Well I've never felt wanted. If you understand my meaning, I've never had that lustful desire, or see anyone have such feelings for me. I've not had that heart-stopping kind of urgency of want and desire. This sounds ridiculous..." Athos was shaking his head at her, admonishing her for her embarrassment. "Don't treat me like a husband does his wife, or at least how my husband treated me. It was like it was a duty and nothing more. I want it to be what is preached against. I want it to be wicked and sinful. I want it to be more anger than kindness."

She thought he was going to speak again but instead he launched himself forwards and grabbed her. he turned her about and pushed her down onto the bed unceremoniously. Then he was on top of her, kissing her again as he had done in the alleyway, as if he'd never get to kiss her again. Elizabeth felt her fear and equilibrium vanish in seconds and she locked her arms around his neck as his hand was reaching down to pull up her skirts.


	9. Chapter Eight - 4th July 1632

_**Guest and Whatfunny, I hope I prove you both wrong! I know Athos does seem out of character in the last chapter and perhaps even this one, but I feel like there's a reason for it and it does claw back soon! This story just felt more Athos to me after the first few chapters because of the troubles they both face. It is both easier and harder for him to understand and that's why it worked better as a plot. I feel like with Porthos it would have been done and dusted within a few more chapters because he's so much more of an open book. With Athos I feel like there's a slight desire to be wanted there even though he'd deny that even to himself. If he can't help himself I think he's likely to see a kindred spirit and feel like helping them will ease his own pain somehow. Who knows, maybe this is only something I can see but I appreciate the feedback! Keep it coming!**_

 _ **I am currently in planning stages of a much longer story in which Porthos will definitely be the eventual love interest! (This story will only be about 18 chapters or so.) I feel like it's a much better story for Porthos to get involved in whilst this was just something I couldn't get out of my head. Keep an eye out for that story because I'll be posting hopefully once I've posted all chapters of this!**_

 _ **In this chapter, Athos finally finds out a few of Elizabeth's secrets!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eight - 4th July 1632**_

The wracking coughs began before Elizabeth was even fully awake. As the pain in her chest intensified, she opened her eyes blearily and almost screamed in fright. She had not shared a bed with another person, let alone a man in so many years that she was accustomed to sleeping alone. The sullen musketeer lay beside her under the counterpane, mercifully still asleep. As quietly as she could Elizabeth slid out of bed as she tried to hold her coughs in and rushed to the other side of the room where a bowl sat on the dresser. Elizabeth coughed into a piece of linen to try and muffle the sound, her breathing shallow and uneven as she tried to recover herself as best she could. Mornings were always the worst. It felt as if the coughs were coming from the very pit of her stomach and for a few moments Elizabeth thought she might vomit. Then she realised that she did not recall the last meal she had consumed. Not that it mattered of course, as she would not care for such trivial things as food in the weeks to come.

It was blood that she eventually coughed up into the bowel and Elizabeth stood looking down at it for the longest time, wondering just how much she was capable of before a coughing fit might kill her one day. She slid down to the floor and rested her back against the dresser, knowing a dizzy spell was imminent. Sometimes she was recovered from her morning attacks in minutes, but that morning she could not recall how long she had been out of bed. Her eyes kept flitting across the room to the man who still lay in her bed, appearing to be sound asleep. It was still early though and she hoped she could manage to return to bed before he could even tell that she'd left it.

Elizabeth knew why things were so much worse that morning of course. Tiredness affected her condition greatly, and she was sure she hadn't slept for more than three hours. She had no energy left to spend and coughed more blood into the linen cloth in her hand as she did not have it in her to stand at the dresser again. Eventually the coughs began to subside a little and she was left gasping for breath. As her breathing gradually began to slow to normal Elizabeth finally let herself believe what had occured the evening before. There was a dull sort of ache between her legs and in her thighs but it was not unwanted, nor was it really that painful. It was more an ache of tiredness, and of muscles used after so long dormant. Despite how ill she felt because of her rather exerted evening beforehand, Elizabeth felt a wave of something that served to calm her. She did not think it was happiness, for she could not atesst to one night lifting her mood so considerably. There was a contentedness about the room though, with the shutters still covering the windows and only a little light permiating through the cracks here and there. There was enough light for her to see, but it was not the harsh light that an open window afforded.

Elizabeth had almost forgotten what it felt like to be held by a man. In her first few months of marriage she liked to think she had enjoyed her love-making with Eric, but it had quickly faded to a feeling of duty and responsibility when Eric began to loose interest in her. After she had lost their child, he'd never touched her again and she'd not even felt like she was doing her duty as his wife. The musketeer had not made her feel inadequate. In all honesty, she had thought he was going to simply take what he needed and she was prepared and content to experience that. She would gave gained pleasure simply in being wanted for those few short moments. It had not been so. He'd wished to please her too. When she looked back upon her married life she really could not recall a time when she and Eric and ever made love in a way that was simply to please her. She had also been wrong about other things. She had half-expected the musketeer to leave once he had sated his need. She'd thought he'd not stay for much more than an hour. oh how wrong she had been. There was a reason she was so exhausted. Their tryst had only ended mere hours before the sun was due to rise and Elizabeth could not find it within herself to regret it.

With Eric it had been all duty and civility. The musketeer on the other hand, had not a civil tone in his body she thought. She grinned suddenly and hid the expression behind her hand even though there was no one to hide it from. In essence they hadn't done much talking once they'd reached her lodgings. They hadn't needed to. They were all tongues and hands and...

A blush was creeping up her sallow cheeks for the first time in at least four years. One soldier was able to do for her what her husband had not been able to do in the six years of their marriage. The wanton abandon with which he'd thrown her about had excited her, and the way in which he'd dragged her towards himself and held her close had made Elizabeth feel more needed than she ever had in her life. How was it possible that she was feeling thus for the first time? There was no wondering why she felt so poorly of spirit when she'd had so little sleep. Resolving to try and get some before the musketeer woke she pulled herself to her feet rather too quickly, and the movement set off another attack of wracking coughs that left her spitting into the bowl again.

At length she felt steadied enough to move again and returned to the bed. She had only just lain back against the pillows to close her eyes when she felt movement beside her. "Shall I send for a doctor Madame?"

She opened her tired eyes again to find the musketeer watching her intently. "A doctor? Whatever for? I'm perfectly fine. A little cold is all it is."

"Yes I'm sure thats not blood within that bowl over there," he replied. "You sound terribly ill. "Can I not fetch someone?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I've seen enough doctors Monsieur to last me a life time. I do not need to see another one to tell me the same thing as the last ten have."

"What can you mean by that?"

Elizabeth watched his face as his expression softened and she wondered if she could tell him. She had yet to tell a soul and there was a huge part of her that was worried about his reaction. She did not know why, for she barely knew him at all and when he left her that morning she would have no need to see him again. He had told her that he believed she was truthful and she was no longer living with Eric so there would be no need for the musketeers to investigate her, or so she thought. What did it matter if one person knew? She would be leaving Paris soon enough.

"I'm dying Monsieur. Whatever this is..." Elizabeth gestured towards her chest. "It's killing me."

The shock upon his face almost tore her heart apart. Was that how all people would take her knews; sheer disbelief? She could readily understand his shock. To the outside world she was a reasonably well young woman of two and twenty. There could be no allowance for anyone thinking she was suffering with more than a slight cold. Perhaps it was a mark of how well she had hidden her suffering and her pain that he shook his head as he gazed at her, determined not to believe it. She did not correct her previous statement however, and she saw the acceptance reluctantly cloud his eyes.

"How long did they say you have?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "This condition of mine began in the tower when I was small. It's something that I've always had. It's grown rapidly worse over the last lot of months though. They have told me I have perhaps twelve weeks left, perhaps a little more if I take care of myself."

Athos was incredulous. "Twelve weeks...three months? Madame I do not..."

Elizabeth offered him a small smile as he moved closer to her on the bed. "You do not have to say anything Monsieur. What are we to one another after all? You shared my bed for a night. Do not think that you owe me anything at all."

"But I do not understand-"

"Do you think I understand?" Elizabeth cried and then she coughed again. "Do you not think I have questions Monsieur? All I know is that I have a condition of the lungs. I have been ill in some form for almost all of my life as a result of my incarceration in the tower of London. My mother has a similar condition but I think as she entered the damp rooms we shared as an adult, there was some kind of self preservation at work. There was no hope for me really when you think on it. I was brought up in those rooms. I did not really get the rest and recuperation I might have needed when I left though. I married Eric and we have spent most of our marriage travelling. I think I knew as soon as it began to get worse that there was no help for me."

"Where is your husband? Surely he has a responsibility of care towards you?" Athos seemed aghast as he stared at her. "Does he know?"

"Eric knows that I am ill of course, but he does not know that it shall kill me before long. I have the queerest feeling that he should not be told. He is like to make use of my ill health to benefit himself. He would wish to be pitied and revered. Indeed he would have the whole world thinking he was the most doted and caring husband. How much more money could he extort when he told people his wife was close to dying? No Monsieur, I would not have my husband know of my condition."

Athos nodded slowly. "I see within you a resolve to really be at the close of your marriage Madame. Perhaps in your condition such a decision is rash."

Elizabeth sat up in bed, suddenly weary of all of the talking. "I do not need my husband to take care of me! I have arrangements in place for when I am incapable of independence. There is money set aside and I know of such women who I may go to near the end. They will care for me in my final days. I entreat you Monsieur, do not think I hoodwinked you into some tryst with me to try and force your hand in any way. I have no expectations or wants of you except that when you leave my lodgings today you speak not of the night we have passed together. There is no need to tell a soul. After all, it's unlikely we will have cause to even speak again."

He threw her an indiscernible glance then as he too sat up and reached for his clothing which lay at the foot of the bed. "Madame I had no intentions of telling anyone anything at all. Indeed I do think we may yet have cause to speak again though. Surely you would have me continue my work in discovering what led to your father's death."

Elizabeth frowned. Her elated mood had truly dissipated as her mind turned to her father. "I try not to think of it," she replied suddenly very coldly. "There is a part of my mind that believes the answer is already before us."

Athos was standing then, his boots back on and only his doublet remained absent. "You are speaking of your husband I think Madame?"

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "I do not like to think such a thing, and deep down I know Eric would not hurt me in such a way, especially after my father helped him so. There is this niggling doubt within my mind though. Eric was involved in so many schemes. I had considered that someone who has been offended by my husband in some way might have taken such anger out upon my father."

"As of yet I do not believe you should be so downcast Madame." Athos crossed the room then and brought her a discarded robe from a chair. "We have yet to discover that your husband was in any way responsible for your father's death. Indeed of the little connections we have found, none lead to your husband. I know you consider your marriage over and might even say that your husband has treated you ill, but that does not make him a killer."

Elizabeth shrugged. "You see things very plainly Monsieur. You do not know the intricacies of my husband's mind as I do. What a peaceful life you must lead without all of this nonsense in your head." Elizabeth had no doubt her frustration was showing on her face, for the musketeer frowned at her.

"There really is no one I can fetch for you Madame?"

"I thank you but no. I am perfectly capable of managing things at present."

His doublet was found with little ceremony and he was once more ready to head out onto the streets. "Then well you endeavour to promise me something Madame? Will you call upon myself or any of my friends if you have a need to? We are to be found often at the garrison on the Rue du Bac. Even if it is only only to fetch a reputable doctor to you should you need the assistance. I feel that our intrusions into your life due to your husband's exploits may have had an adverse affect on your health. Let me make amends in some way."

Elizabeth offered him a small smile that was not a true reflection of how she felt inside. "Monsieur do not think so. I was already ill; already not long for the world. That is, stress is not something I long for but I have tried for a very long time not to let my husband's dealings bother me so. It is not something I can change, so therefore worrying is senseless."

He nodded and turned towards the door. Elizabeth was poised to release a breath when the door closed behind him but he turned back as if an afterthought had come to him. "Madame, did you mean what you said about us having no need to meet again? Not even..."

"Athos I do not wish to offend you. How is it possible that we can? I am ill, and you are surely busy. Indeed I did enjoy our time, and..." Elizabeth paused and dropped her face to stare into her lap as a blush crept onto her cheeks. "I cannot think of a time when I have felt more at peace and more content with my own self in a very long time, perhaps ever. I hope that you take from that explanation how glad I am for our night together. Let us not fool ourselves into thinking that we need to see one another together again in such a fashion though. I am afraid I am not sure I am up to it Monsieur. You see, I think I might be confined to my bed today after the exertions of last night."

he approached her again, letting the door swing closed behind him. Athos sat down on the bed on Elizabeth's side and lifted her chin with one bent finger. "Madame you must tell me what it is you want. Do not fill the air with wasteless excuses."

Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat even more at the mention of her telling Athos her desires. He had spoken so the evening before and it was as if he knew that she had never in her life had to make many choices for herself. They were all made for her first by the tower wardens and then by her husband and his family. It was an acute mark of respect that Elizabeth did not even think her father had shown her.

"That is just it Monsieur, I have no idea what I want. I have no experience of such freedom or liberation."

"Is that how you see it?" The look Athos levelled upon her sent shiver's down Elizabeth's spine. It was not pity, for that she had seen time and time again. It was more anger that he seemed to feel for her strife.

"How could it be anything else to me. I've been so closeted Monsieur. You must understand though that I did mean what I said in that I may not be up to much more than sitting here and talking for the most part. I am not what..."

Athos shook his head vehemently and took her hand in his. "Madame please do not say another word in contempt of yourself. I have no desire to hear it. You are a beautiful woman with a good heart. Any man should be honoured by your presence. I respect what you say though. I think perhaps we may find a way to secure a scheme by which we might meet again under such circumstances as last night when it is mutually beneficial and attainable for us both. Perhaps if you were to place a lit candle in that window with your curtains open when you wish for my company, I could be prevailed upon to call upon you when I see such an occurrence. If the candle is absent, I will be about my own business."

"That seems fair..." Elizabeth mumbled her agreement.

"Of course if you change your mind Madame, all you need do is never place a candle near that window at all."

with a gentle squeeze of her hand he was gone.


	10. Chapter Nine - 23rd July 1632

_**Whatfunny; I agree with you on the Porthos point entirely! You'll like the other story I've got in planning! ;)**_

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 _ **Chapter Nine - 23rd July 1632**_

An odd sort of clinking sound against the window pane had Elizabeth rousing from sleep. She'd drifted off curled up in a chair by the fire rather awkwardly and her limbs protested as she tried to stretch them. For a few seconds it was not entirely clear to her what had woken her until she heard the sound again. Someone was throwing stones at the window. It was nearing twilight outside and was indeed a strange time for visitors to a woman currently living alone. Elizabeth was no longer a stranger to callers of later hours though. She had an inkling of who might be outside but she had no patience for anyone.

At long length she managed to stand and amble over to the window. She pushed up the sash and leaned out to observe who stood below. She was met first with the sight of the thick brim of a hat before concerned blue eyes and a well trimmed beard made their appearance. Elizabeth rolled her eyes slightly at the musketeer who held more stones clasped in his hand.

"I see no candle in my window tonight Athos. I was not in need of company. Nay, I do not have a want for it as I am overtired." She was tempted to say goodnight and pull the window closed again without further conversation, but he got ahead of her.

"Elizabeth I'm not here for that. I need to speak with you; it's important. It concerns your father. After we've spoken I shall go if you wish."

His face truly did look troubled and Elizabeth wondered what on earth he and his musketeer friends could possibly have found that warranted a call at such a late hour. "I'll come down then; let you in," she called before she shut the window slowly.

In the darkness of the hallway they said nothing at all to one another. Athos only spoke when they had reached the parlour. "You look paler than you did a few days ago."

Elizabeth chuckled lightly even though she did not find her own circumstances humorous. "I would expect so Athos, given that I'm dying."

"Stop speaking of yourself like that," he chided as he motioned for her to sit on a couch and sat down beside her. "You must have hope and faith. We've discussed this. You may yet meet with a doctor who may be able to help you."

"You didn't come here to talk about that," Elizabeth chimed as his positivity twanged her nerves.

"No I did not," Athos replied as he took a piece of folded parchment from his pocket. "I wanted to ask you if you recognise any of these names."

When the parchment was unfolded in his hands Elizabeth recognised her father's handwriting in the form of a list of names. "What is this?" she asked as she took it from him.

"It was found amongst some of your father's more well hidden things. These are men he has been keeping tabs on here in Paris. I suspect he was being paid to do so, perhaps by someone close to the English King. Are any of these names familiar to you Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth scrolled down the list of french names that meant next to nothing to her. Certainly she had heard the forenames and surnames used in common speech to address people or to discuss people but she did not know anyone with those particular names. It was only the name at the very bottom of the list that she knew well enough. "Charles Dempsey?"

"You know him?"

"He is one of Eric's earliest creditors," Elizabeth supplied as she handed Athos back the piece of parchment. "I believe it is to Charles Dempsey that Eric owes the most money. He was in debt even before we were married. I only found that out a few weeks ago. That man was the reason we were forced to flee England in the first place. T'was him that caused all of that furore."

Athos nodded slowly. "I already knew of his connection to your husband," Athos told her. "I wanted to know if you knew how your father came to know his name?"

"Athos my father was a peer of the realm. He knows many men! Perhaps he knew Dempsey's father or something like that. Who would be paying him to spy on Dempsey though? Do you think this was why he was killed?"

"What do you know of Dempsey's own dealings Elizabeth?"

She shook her head. "I know little. I know he has rather a lot of money, but not enough to forgo hunting down Eric for what he owes. I do not know him personally."

"The intelligence that France holds against him is that he plots to kill the English King. We think perhaps your father was in lieu of the crown to watch this man whilst he was abroad in Paris."

Elizabeth waved a hand for him to falter. "Wait. You think my father was being paid by the crown? The same crown that imprisoned his wife and children indefinitely and searched for him all over Christendom?"

"Your father's crimes were a lot less grievous than Charles Dempsey's, Madame. I think perhaps you should consider that your father may have been offered something more substantial than money to watch such a man. I think when all is considered your father could not have refused."

"They were going to release my mother and my brothers?"

Athos grimaced a little. "I am not entirely sure the English crown would release your brothers. Two hot headed young men in the prime of their lives who might make advantageous marriages and start a war? No, I do think that they would have considered releasing your mother though. She has been imprisoned in the tower these twenty two years and you have said yourself that she suffers from ill health. I cannot think they will see her as a threat still."

"No, just a bargaining chip. It seems to be all women are any good for." Elizabeth fell into a sombre mood and was weary of Athos watching her too closely. "I appreciate you bringing this news to me Athos; but why did you?"

"I thought you deserved to know, Elizabeth. Over the course of the last weeks I feel that I've come to find you rather shrewd and observant. You are also innocent. I believe that you deserve to know. Some of my friends might consider my dalliance with you a rather bold move but I think not one of them could have declined to get to know you better once they saw the true workings of your heart and mind."

"You know the true workings of my heart do you?" Elizabeth laughed at that. "I'm tired Athos. I can't have another conversation like this. I wish to retire to bed. If you have any more to say might we leave it for another evening? I feel I am not capable of taking any more in."

"I've upset you and that was not my intention!" Athos moved closer to her and Elizabeth leaned away from him. "You grow paler. Might I fetch something for you? Or can you find it within yourself to permit me to bring a doctor to you?"

"Certainly not! I'm tired is all Athos. Please let me retire now. I just need to rest."

He stood and held out a hand to help her to her feet and walked with her into her bedchamber. "Would you not have me stay with you Madame?"

Elizabeth had reached her bed and she used the bed-post as a pivot to turn and look at him. "Athos I've told you I'm not up to it. I think a tumble beneath the sheets might send me to the infirmary the way I feel."

"Elizabeth I did not mean that. I only thought you might like some company, someone to hold you? Is that not agreeable to you? If you would rather be alone of course, I will go. Just say the word."

"I did not think you were the type of man that offered a shoulder to cry or in my case cough and splutter on Athos. It is an offer I appreciate, but you do not have to stay. I'll be perfectly fine on my own."

Athos smiled at her then. "I do not think you are the type of woman to crumble before a man you hardly know, but you've done so before me several times. I consider us more than lovers Elizabeth. You have one friend here in Paris who you might count upon, even though you would think yourself alone. I wish to stay with you to offer you comfort and to ensure you are not alone if you are ill during the night. If you would like me to stay, then tell me."

Elizabeth clawed halfheartedly at the laces of her bodice then. "I suppose you might help me with these then, if you're staying."


	11. Chapter Ten - 1st August 1632

_**Thanks to Whatfunny for the review!**_

 _ **I this chapter, Eric is up to some of his tricks again and Someone else may be about to find out about Elizabeth's secret!**_

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 _ **Chapter Ten - 1st August 1632**_

Playing cards made Elizabeth feel reckless. It was not that she gambled a lot of money away, but Eric had always prohibited her from any card games at all. He disliked women gambling away money, as he said it was not their place. Her father had been of the same opinion, and strangely Elizabeth had understood their logic. It felt good to do things that not even she had considered right before. Things Elizabeth had never thought she would have cause to enjoy were now shiny new toys in the playroom. Playing cards was one of them. Taking a lover who was not her husband was another.

Her lover was evidently not in Paris. She'd not seen him in four days but she had seen her husband. Eric had returned to the lodgings to fetch some of his things. It had been hard for Elizabeth to agree to let him in as she feared he would simply lock the door and claim squatter's rights. He might even have thrown her out onto the street and with her lover not in Paris, she really would not have anyone to turn to. The worst case scenario had not come to pass. Eric had packed up a few belongings and gloated all the while. His new apartments were lavish and pristine and he was making new friends by the day. Elizabeth couldn't help wondering if these new-found friends were perhaps a little unhinged; for who would want to be friends with her husband now that his behaviour and his past were well known. It was not until a few hours after Eric had left that Elizabeth realised he had stolen from her. Some of her jewellery was missing and some of her father's money that had been passed to her just that morning was gone. Her father had lent money to one of his friends in Paris and the man had had the good grace to return it to Elizabeth instead of taking it to a lawyer. It was a kind gesture as Elizabeth had not known of the debt. The man might have kept his money and said nothing on the subject at all. When he saw how plainly Elizabeth was living he expressed his apologies that he could not invite her to stay with him. If it were up to him alone he would have no qualms in making her such an offer but his wife and daughter had to be thought upon. He explained that Elizabeth herself was not thought of as a risk but Eric was. As such, the family were worried that taking Elizabeth into their care might attract Eric to their door.

Elizabeth expressed her gratitude to the man for this thoughtfulness but tried to make his plight easier by explaining that she could not have accepted such an offer. She was leaving Paris so soon that it seemed fruitless to begin such a move to another house. In her heart Elizabeth understood their reservations. If they had taken her in, Eric would have thrown off his shame and showed up upon their doorstep to demand some form of loan. He saw good people coming and used and tricked them. The man was glad to know the money he had presented to Elizabeth would go some way to improving her remaining stay in Paris but Elizabeth had moved quickly upon his departure to separate the money. She had placed small purses of it all around the apartment which she thought the safest way to even keep some of it for herself. Eric would surely come ahunting but as a woman Elizabeth had no way to place the money under the care of any society without her husband present to give permission. Thus Eric had found a great deal of the returned loan and spirited it away. No doubt it was already gambled away at the card table.

Elizabeth rose from her chair suddenly, her hands flying from the table as if she had been burnt. She had put very little money at all on the table but suddenly she saw everything that Eric had done to destroy her life staring back at her. She was repulsed by it all very quickly. She moved then, making a quiet apology and retreated to the back of the room where she found an alcove to place herself in. She had only just set her hat down on the table when she felt a presence behind her.

"Are you ill Madame?"

The musketeer was there. She had thought he would be gone for many more days. Elizabeth turned to face him slowly and found him extremely travel-worn. Wherever it was he had been, he had arrived and clearly come straight to her.

"I'm not ill Athos," she countered. "I'm just reminding myself why my husband and I are no longer compatible."

Athos nodded slowly. "Do you know what time it is Madame? It will be dawn in an hour or two. I passed by your lodgings in the hope of ascertaining that you would be asleep but I found them empty. Should you be out alone at this hour?"

Elizabeth snorted. "I'm not alone. You're here."

They walked much the same way they had done the first night that the musketeer had walked her home and Elizabeth told him how she had passed the last few days, including the occurrence of her husband arriving to collect his things and of his stealth in the process. Athos looked stricken as she spoke, and he only vented his anger once Elizabeth had stopped speaking.

"Would that I know any repercussions would never reach yourself I would gladly cut your husband down to size myself," he announced gruffly. "As it is, Paris is fickle. I would not wish to bring any more trouble upon yourself by my hand."

"I appreciate that sentiment Athos but I am beginning to care less and less what these people think of me. That money would have helped me a great deal."

"I am sorry to say," replied Athos, "That had you been in possession of all of it I would have been required to confiscate it Elizabeth."

Elizabeth stopped walking and turned to him. "What?"

"Your father's death is being investigated Elizabeth. The money is not yet confirmed as yours though by rights I think you are fully entitled to it. In all likelihood it would be returned to you eventually but we would have to ascertain that it was legally rightfully yours first."

"What a load of nonsense," Elizabeth mumbled behind her hand as she stifled a yawn.

"I know," he agreed. "But in a case such as this I am sure even your father's lawyer will agree with me upon the point that you should be seen to do everything that is lawful and right to enhance your chances of inheritance. Flouting Paris laws would not help any appeal you would make in future."

"Appeal? Athos I do not have time for appeals! Heaven knows I have enough money set aside to pay for my eventual stay in the country but what am I to live on until then? I am glad I had the quick thinking to pay for such things in advance otherwise Eric would have scuppered that money from me too and I really would be in trouble."

"Do not speak so Elizabeth, please! I wish you would agree to see another doctor, one who might be able to help!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "If I were to see one, what am I to pay him with Athos? Do not say that you would help, as a musketeer's wage would not cover the amount of care my condition would require. Heavens Athos, you know I have come to terms with my fate; I just want to live out the last weeks of my life on comfort."

"Weeks, weeks!" Athos's expression was full of incredulity. "Elizabeth have you no hope for yourself? Weeks is not a very long period of time at all! I consider you to be healthier than you believe yourself to be! You may have months left yet, perhaps even years if you had the right care!"

"STOP THIS!" Frustrated tears leaked from Elizabeth's eyes as she tried to ignore the hope in his voice. She did not wish to fool herself into believing that hope could get her by. She truly knew what her fate was and did not see how it could be changed. She could not bear these conversations of hope and promise when there truly was none to be had. She wanted to spend the time she had left finding peace and tranquillity and some enjoyment in the world. "I am sorry, I do not mean to shout," she supplied thinly as they turned into the street of her lodgings. "I appreciate all that you say Athos but I think you know I am adept at hiding things. I know how quickly my health is failing even if I do not outwardly show signs of deterioration. Please do not question me upon such matters for I do not speak of them to worry you. I just wish for you to take me as I am and not think upon my condition. I want to be as normal as I can possibly be for the remainder of my stay in Paris."

They had come to a halt outside her lodgings and Athos was no longer looking at her. "How normal can you be Elizabeth, with an errant husband who behaves like a scoundrel? My guess is his new landlord has seen fit to throw him out?"

Elizabeth followed the direction of Athos's gaze and sure enough at the window she could quite clearly make out the silhouette of her husband and another woman behind the drapes. "He has no shame. First the money and now this! I am beginning to loose my-"

"Elizabeth whatever you want to do right now, you cannot do it." Athos attempted to pull her back towards him when she took a few steps towards her lodgings. "I do not think it safe for you to enter those lodgings whilst your husband is there. Think of the investigation I am carrying out! Consider all that your husband has done throughout your marriage. You are angry. I cannot see things ending well this night if you return to your lodgings."

Elizabeth knew deep down that she should not overexert herself but the temptation to confront Eric was very great indeed. There was a thought beginning to niggle away in her brain though. "Do you mean to say that you really do suspect my husband of having a hand in my father's death? Monsieur do not think me a fool. If you did not have such suspicions I do not think you would be so keen to keep me from home! What other reason can you have for thinking that my husband might be a danger to me? I have given you no reason at all to think so!"

"Elizabeth it is an ongoing investigation as I have said," Athos whispered exasperatedly. He kept glancing up towards the windows apprehensively. "You cannot blame me for thinking that you might fare better elsewhere for the night until your husband leaves! If nothing else he may upset you and I cannot see any reason why you should wish to exacerbate your condition by distress."

Elizabeth sighed heavily. The musketeer was only trying to help but she didn't feel comfortable with him trying to influence her thinking. She supposed she could go along with his wishes for one evening as he had shown her nothing but kindness in the last few weeks, but it would be with a heavy heart. There was a slight sinking feeling within her that she might return to her lodgings tomorrow and find that Eric had locked her out.

"You are right, of course you are right." Elizabeth let herself return to his side and she took his arm. "What happens if I return tomorrow and he has changed the locks or if he has sold all of my things? What then?"

Athos shook his head. "I do not know Madame, but for now you need to sleep. A few hours rest will clear your head and then if you wish I will return here with you tomorrow to assess the situation. We will cross all detrimental bridges when we come to them."

Elizabeth felt in her pocket for the pouch of coins that she had remaining. "I suppose I could spare enough for one night at an inn if you know of a reputable one? Perhaps one nearby your garrison so that we might meet easily enough tomorrow?"

"I think I know somewhere," Athos mused as they began walking, this time at a much slower pace.

By the time they had crossed the river again Elizabeth felt as if her legs were dead weights. Her cough had been triggered by the cool night air and she had to stop several times to catch her breath. Athos looked on in silent concentration each time and Elizabeth was glad that he did not fuss over her. It would have only made her feel guilty if she thought that she was holding him up or that he felt he had to nurse her. She wanted nothing of the kind. His silent company was enough to keep her calm on the streets despite the constant knot of nerves that had been building within her stomach. Everything that had happened since she had come to Paris had caused her to stress and worry, and having a coughing fit on the streets alone would only have caused her to panic. Instead they slowly meandered through the streets of the Latin quarter until they stopped before an archway. The gates were still open and they crossed underneath into a small yard. The first thing that Elizabeth noticed was a stables to the left. To the wine addled mind it might have almost resembled a slightly run down tavern but Elizabeth had long since sobered. She knew immediately where they must be even though she had never set foot there before.

"Athos!" she rounded on him. "I thought you were going to take me somewhere with a room I might purchase for the night! I was not asking for rooms in the Louvre but just somewhere where I might get a good nights sleep! I cannot stay in a musketeer garrison! Surely you would face trouble for bringing me here? Please take me elsewhere-"

Elizabeth's voice cracked and she coughed again, finding that her words were caught in her throat. Athos motioned for her to sit at a nearby table and she let him lead her, feeling foolish that she apparently needed his help in more than a few matters. "Madame I have brought you here not because I do not respect your wishes, but rather that I wished to ensure you were well. You could readily stay in a nearby tavern but I am required here at first light. I could not stay in a tavern with you. If you are here with me, then at least I may watch over you in case you have some trouble during the night. You are tired and upset Elizabeth. If you really are as ill as you say then it does not sit with me to leave you alone this night."

Elizabeth found she could not argue with his reasoning because it was kindly meant. In any case, since she had sat she found she had not the energy to journey on elsewhere. "I know you mean well," she said lightly. "You should have told me you were bringing me here at least. I do not suppose you or any of your men often offer up a resting place for people like myself."

Athos smirked a little. "You do not know my friend Aramis very well then! Although... The women who come here with him to not tend to rest much."

Elizabeth smiled as she caught his meaning. "I hope Monsieur that you do not expect as much from myself this evening. I find I am utterly spent."

Athos pulled her to her feet again and directed her towards a staircase nearby. "Madame I would not dare press such a matter. I have paperwork I should attend to whilst you rest."

"Then where am I to sleep?"

The first shafts of daylight were filtering through the shutters and Athos had little need anymore for the candle still burning on his desk. The shutters would stay closed though as Elizabeth was still asleep. The only discernible sound was the scratching sound of his quill as he traced it across parchment in his looping handwriting. He glanced up as the catch on the door clicked before it swung open gently and his friend Aramis walked into the room. He stopped immediately as he caught sight of the woman sleeping soundly, covered in a thick cloak in the corner of the room on the bed that Athos used if he was not retiring to a proper bed for the evening.

Athos had stood and swiftly but quietly marched towards Aramis. "Athos what on-"

"Not here!" Athos growled as he grabbed Aramis's shoulder and gave him a shove towards the door again.

Only when they were out upon the balcony and two doors separated them from a sleeping Elizabeth did Aramis speak again. "Athos what are you doing? That woman's husband is a suspect in her father's murder! We do not readily know that she had nothing to do with it! Why have you brought someone like her here?"

"Aramis, are you really one to ask me such questions?" Athos paced backwards and forwards as he tried to decide how much he should tell his friend. "How many times did Treville have to turn a blind eye to the countless women you brought back here during the night! Serving maids, ladies of the night, even Duchesses. Do not lecture your captain on what he does or does not choose to do with his own garrison!"

Aramis was shaking his head. "This is the King's garrison Athos."

"Then the King would readily agree that a woman in need should be helped at all costs, regardless of her nationality."

"How is she in need? She has lodgings across the river-"

Athos threw all cation to the winds and held up his hands for silence. "She is dying Aramis!"

"What?" The marksman had the good grace to look puzzled in place of his incredulity of seconds before."

"The Madame de Vere is dying. She has a condition of the lungs that grows steadily worse. The last doctors she saw told her she had mere weeks left to live. I know she appears well to the naked eye and I too have been fooled at times. Her condition is most aggravated in the mornings and I myself have seen so first hand-"

Aramis covered his eyes with his hand. "Oh Athos tell me you haven't? She is part of an investigation."

Athos nodded his understanding. "We all know she is innocent Aramis. That is all just a formality; and yes I have spent some evenings with her."

"In her bed?"

"It is not something I would class as serious-"

"Did she tell you she was dying before you fell into bed with her? She offered up some sob story and you fell for it?"

Athos felt anger begin to rise into his chest. "Aramis she only told me after we had slept together the first time. I think she would not have told me if she could have hidden it. She still tries to hide the worst of it from me most mornings but there is no ignoring it. She is a woman who is dying, who has been left on her own by her lecherous, thief and braggart of a husband."

"Alright, if I believe all of that then I still struggle to understand why you have brought her here."

Athos ran a hand through his tangle of unkept hair. "Her husband has left her, as I said. She returned to her lodgings tonight to find him there with another woman. I did not deem it safe or wise for her to return to the lodgings as she was angry and upset. For the same reasons I wanted to keep her close should she fall ill during the night. He stole from her Aramis, he took jewellery and a great deal of money from her today; no I suppose it would now be yesterday that we speak of."

"Does her husband know that she is ill?" Aramis asked a little more calmly.

Athos shook his head. "She has not told him. It is a mark of his lack of care towards her that he had lived and travelled with her all that time and did not notice her declining health. How could a man not notice even when he is not upon good terms with her?"

"Either that or he knows and doesn't care..." Aramis mused. He nodded at Athos then. "I understand. Given what you have told me, I think under the circumstances I'd have done the same thing."

"Of course you would Aramis. We all would. There is no harm in her being here for a few hours. It's not as if the King himself is going to wander down to a musketeer garrison is it? He's never stepped foot in that yard below us. I'm taking her back to her lodgings later to see how the land lies. She thinks her husband might have locked her out."

"Surely you told me that the lodgings were in her name though?" Athos nodded. "Then," Aramis concluded, "All she needs to is apply to a lawyer and the magistrate should sort things out for her. They could expel her husband, especially given her condition."

"Oh she won't speak of it to anyone Aramis! She does not even have a maid to help her. She had to cut all of those expenses when her husband left her."

"I'm beginning to detest her husband even more," Aramis replied.

Athos opened his mouth to speak but at that moment there came a sound he recognised. He raced for the door, pulling it open and threw himself down the corridor and through the door into his office. Elizabeth was sitting up, but she was doubled over as a coughing fit racked her body. The sounds coming from her chest sounded much worse than any Athos had heard before and he reached for a bowl left abandoned on a shelf and pressed it into her hands. She cradled it below her chin, spittle and blood escaping her mouth as she continued to cough. The tears streaming down her face told Athos just how much pain Elizabeth was truly in and he knew not how to go about helping her. For the longest period the coughs continued before they began to ebb away into quiet clearings of the throat.

Athos was sat with Elizabeth, his arm around the small of her back to support her. He stood and walked to his desk to pour her a drink which she took from him gratefully and he knew she only smiled in thanks because she was not sure she had the power of speech yet. Athos took the bowl from her and left his office to dispose of the contents. In the corridor, Aramis was quietly leaning against the wall. He glanced briefly into the bowl and shook his head. Athos saw in his friend's eyes that he now believed the story Athos had told him a short while ago.

"She needs a doctor Athos."

Athos shrugged. "Do you not think I make such suggestions each time I see her Aramis? She refuses. She has seen many doctors and I think she is tired of hearing the same thing over and over again."

"There is nothing any of us can do for her," Aramis supplied gravely.

Athos replied soberly, "And don't I know it."


	12. Chapter Eleven - 7th August 1632

_**Chapter Eleven - 7th August 1632**_

The sound of the heavy rain as it pommelled the window was quite soothing upon Elizabeth's shattered nerves. Her head ached and sleep evaded her. The first strains of light were beginning to emerge across the floorboards through the opened shutters. Athos had wanted to wake with the natural light as he had business to attend to that morning. Elizabeth had not needed the light to wake her as she had not been able to fall asleep. She had coughed and spluttered all night but she had done so in the far corner of the room behind the dressing screen as she tried not to wake the slumbering musketeer. She had felt hot and suffocated trying to share a bed with him, and her head throbbed as a result of it all.

Athos had returned with her the morning after her stay in the garrison to find the apartment empty again. Athos had sent for a locksmith who changed the locks and ensured the man would not give out a key to anyone who called upon him for one. Elizabeth thought that was certainly something that someone as cunning as Eric might do. Elizabeth was so tired now that usually when Athos arrived she was nearly always asleep, but it was comforting to feel him lying down beside her and placing a comforting arm around her. During the night though, she had been so hot that she had thrown his arm off and pushed him over onto his side of the bed. She had kicked the counterpane off, had dipped her hands in cool water, she had even wet her hair to see if that might help. Nothing had worked. Elizabeth was no fool. She knew that this was likely a symptom of her illness that was only going to get worse.

She was dressed by the time that Athos woke, and he threw her a look of bleary eyed surprise as she emerged from behind the dressing screen to ask him if he would help her lace up her stays. She stood in front of him and he pulled the ribbons taught, just about to tie them off when there was a loud crash against the wall from the other side.

"What was that?" Athos growled.

"Next door," Elizabeth replied distractedly. "They must be fighting again."

"Does that happen all the time? Elizabeth no wonder you are not sleeping if that is all you can hear!"

Elizabeth sighed as he tied the ribbons and turned to face him. "I feel sorry for them Athos. They do not fight all the time, but it happens once or twice a week. I think Madame Deschamps is prone to having ideas that her husband believes are above her status. She goes to those women's meetings you know. I have not really spoken to her since they told me to leave."

"I am not going to diminish a woman's right to her own mind but perhaps she should have a care not to do so in front of her husband, for the sake of her neighbours." Athos stood up and began to dress himself. Elizabeth turned away to try and busy herself with something, suddenly not sure she could bring herself to say what she needed to.

"Athos I..."

She had turned back to him swiftly as he was pulling on his boots but the words had died on her lips. How was she to put it? "Elizabeth?" He asked as he abandoned his boots and approached her, clearly thinking that something was wrong. "You need to sit down, come on."

She pushed away his helping hands. "Athos I need you to listen to me and I need you to respect what I say. Do not try to interrupt me please because I am finding this hard enough as it is."

Tears pricked her eyes as Elizabeth watched Athos back away slightly, and she thought that something within his expression told her he already knew.

"What's wrong?"

"Athos I can't do this any more." Elizabeth flung her arms wide, gesturing towards herself and Athos and the room at large. "I have not the energy nor the drive. I'm getting worse Athos. I think the time has finally come for me to abandon thoughts of a life in Paris. I need to go into the country. I cannot take any of this any more. I feel so suffocated by this city." Athos was nodding slowly as if he understood all that she said. "I'm going to leave as soon as I can get everything in order. It should only take a few days to get everything arranged and put my affairs in order here. I need to go before I become too ill to travel. Even now the thought of the journey is abhorrent to me but it is a journey that I must make. I do not think Paris is the place to be ill."

Athos looked stricken. "I understand that you need to go, and I shall not try to stop you Elizabeth. I am sorry that you must go though, and more than anything I am sorry for you, that you are suffering so and that..." He broke off, unable to voice the words that they both knew to be true. He sighed heavily before he spoke again. "I am sorry that this has been your life. You deserved a husband that really and truly devoted his life to ensuring you were happy."

"Perhaps if we had met earlier Athos, and if we had been different kinds of people..."

"But now I think neither of us are the marrying kind," Athos finished for her. He closed the space between them then and drew her into his arms where he held her for a long time. "If you need anything before you leave Elizabeth, you must let me know. Just because we are no longer... whatever we were does not mean that we are not friends. I can help you if you'll let me. I also ask that you write to me. Even if you only write me to tell me you have arrived safely in the country, so that I might have some peace of mind. If I do not hear from you my mind will be filled with worry that you have met some trouble on the road and I'll wager I'll be tempted to ride out."

Elizabeth nodded her head against his shoulder. "I think I can manage a letter Athos."

"Will I see you again before you leave?" he asked gently then as he pulled away a little to look down at her.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I'm not sure. You are a busy man Athos. If I can find the time to come and seek you out to say goodbye then I will. If you are busy though, perhaps I'll just leave a note."


	13. Chapter Twelve - 9th August 1632

_**Chapter Twelve - 9th August 1632**_

As soon as Elizabeth opened the door she caught sight of her neighbours on the adjacent set of steps. Madame Deschamps appeared incredibly distressed and was attempting weakly to push her husband down the steps. He was resisting with a firm strength, with his booted feet planted firmly on the stop step. He was not entirely dressed yet, with only his boots and breeches and shirt in place. The back of the shirt was untucked and wrinkled as if it had been slept in. When they both became aware of her presence they turned to her sharply as if they were two children that had been caught stealing sweet marzipan from the dinning table.

Elizabeth hid her gasp as she realised that the front of the man's shirt was covered in blood. Elizabeth ascertained that it must be his own for Madame Deschamps appeared clean and uninjured. There was something about the situation that Elizabeth thought rather dire and dangerous. She wanted nothing more than to retreat back inside her own lodgings rather than to try and intervene, but she knew she had to do what was right.

"Can I be of some help?" Elizabeth asked softly. "Is everything alright?"

"None of your damn business is it Madame?" Monsieur Deschamps roared as he used the distraction to grab his wife's wrist. He forced her back through the door and threw a disdainful look at Elizabeth. "Perhaps you should return to your husband Madame so that he may teach you how to keep yourself ensconced within your own affairs!"

Elizabeth stepped down a few steps until she could glimpse Madame Deschamps standing in the stairwell. Her expression was more full of anger than fear but still Elizabeth wanted to ensure the woman felt safe before she left. "Madame?" she pressed. "Do you wish me to fetch help?" Elizabeth's mind was already springing to where she might find a musketeer at such an hour of the morning when the other woman shook her head decidedly.

"Honestly Madame," she called out to her, "There's no trouble here. I appreciate your thought but perhaps my husband is right in saying you should consider your own business and leave us be."

The husband grinned at her snidely and then entered the stairwell of his own lodgings. The door was slammed closed and Elizabeth was left standing on the steps alone. She knew things were not well with her neighbours but she knew not what she could do to help them when they did not wish for her aid. She resigned herself to the fact that they would have to sort their own issues as she was not going to be staying in Paris for that much longer. She was on her way to attend her last meeting with her father's lawyer before she left. Although she was exhausted she knew she needed to try and complete as many errands as she could that day. It would mean that as soon as she found a carriage willing to take her into the country for the right price, she could leave.

The small purse of coins she had buried in the pockets felt extremely light as her motion of walking caused it to bump against her leg repeatedly. Elizabeth was under no allusions that she could very well leave the lawyer's office some time later with her pockets even lighter. She knew there was a high chance that her father had left her nothing and she would still have to pay the lawyer for his time. If that were indeed the case, Elizabeth had resolved herself to the fact that she might have to do what she dreaded and go to Eric and ask him for some money. There was little likelihood that he would give her any.

When Elizabeth emerged onto the streets again some hours later, it was with mixed emotions. She was right in that her father had not left her much at all. She had been left a house in the south of France rather than money, which was of little use to her in her position. It would take weeks or months to finalise a sale of such a house and even longer before she saw any of the profits. She simply did not have that kind of time. She knew why her father had made such a choice though. When he had written his will she had still been attached to Eric. Her father had wanted to prevent any money that he did leave her being squandered away quickly so he had left her it in the form of property. He might have thought differently if she had been honest with him about her condition. Thankfully, he had seen fit to leave her husband absolutely nothing. The thought of her father potentially leaving Eric anything at all had been something Elizabeth had found cause to worry about. Eric had caused her father nothing but endless trouble since their marriage and she couldn't bear the thought of her father thinking that his son in law was still owed something.

There was some other news that was neither good nor bad. Everything else had been left to her brothers and her mother. Of course there was no way for any of them to receive such inheritance whilst locked in in the tower in London, so Elizabeth had been made custodian until such a time as she was able to return it all to her living family. Her father's lawyer had helped Elizabeth set up a storage arrangement within a bank in Paris that would hold any items of jewellery or documents that pertained to leases. Her father had cleverly arranged a payment of this storage already, so Elizabeth was at will as her father had stipulated to take what she wished from the storage as and when she pleased on the condition that she did return it to her family at some point. Elizabeth knew how her mother and brothers thought. They would consider all of her hardships and would think no less of her for selling some of the jewellery; indeed they would even encourage it.

That filled Elizabeth with some hope. Her father had quite the odd taste in jewellery and she would never wear any of it. The thought of her brothers wearing it made her chuckle, because they too would not be seen dead with any of it. The only pang of regret Elizabeth thought she might feel was for her mother, who might wish to keep the jewellery purely as a reminder of her husband's poor taste and his sense of humour. Her mother would not have her starve though. Elizabeth knew well enough that although the rooms her mother and brother had in the tower were damp and draughty they had more than enough money and connections to ensure the rooms were well furnished and that they were fed well.

Elizabeth also took personal possession of her father's pocket watch as she could not bear to leave it behind. She had no intentions of selling it, and she did not think her brothers would mind her keeping some piece of her father with her even when she had passed on. The lawyer had set in motion the process of selling the house in the south of France but Elizabeth knew she would likely be gone from the world before there was any money to show for it. She had arranged that any money gained by the sale should reach a charitable source. Her father's lawyer was going to scour her father's paperwork for any charities he had influenced before and place the money there.

With all of that concluded Elizabeth felt weary and could not muster the energy for any more errands. She headed back to her lodgings with her mind swimming with all of the legal jargon, so much so that she did not notice that there was a commotion in the street until an outstretched arm blocked her access.

"I'm sorry Madame but this street is not accessible at present."

Elizabeth came to her senses and glanced up at the musketeer she did not know. His eyes were kind but his expression was firm. There would be no getting past him. "But I live just there?" Elizabeth pointed to the door of her lodgings, noticing as she did so that there were many musketeers swarming around the steps that led to the Deschamps' lodgings. "Monsieur that apartment belongs to my neighbours? Might I ask what has happened?"

"I'm sorry Madame, but I cannot divulge any information at present." In his other hand she then noticed he held parchment and quill which he brought up to chest level. "Madame may I ask your name; and which number your building carries?"

"Madame Elizabeth de Vere," Elizabeth supplied hurriedly. "Number ten. But Monsieur where might I go if I cannot return home? I have no mind for shopping or drinking or playing cards. Where am I to find peace?"

He offered her a small smile as he glanced up from noting down her name. "It is a warm day Madame de Vere. Might I suggest the Tuleries gardens? Someone will send word when the street is no longer blockaded."

Elizabeth nodded slowly then even as she realised there was little chance of there being someone spare to inform the residents they could return to their lodgings. She wandered off then, pulling out her father's watch to check the time as she meandered through the streets. The musketeer was right, it was a warm day. Eventually she was able to follow little groups of women and their parasols as they too went in search of somewhere to relax peacefully. Elizabeth moved on through the gardens even as the women found a place they wished to stop. Although they seemed amenable enough, Elizabeth had no want of listening to their conversations. Instead she kept walking until she found herself a spot where she might sit under the shade of a tree.

There were mothers and their finely dressed little children far off enough in the distance that Elizabeth could not hear them but she could make out the colour of their clothes as they scampered about over the grass. Elizabeth took the opportunity to look over all of the paperwork that the lawyer had given her that morning and she soon found herself blocking out her surroundings as she glimpsed little snippets of her father's handwriting. She ran her fingers lightly over the signatures and footnotes in a hand she knew so well from letters. She'd never get another one of those letters though. She'd not been the type to hold on to such things as there was always something else that could take up the space in what little luggage she carried with her. Now though, she was regretting the fact that she had not even kept one. Perhaps her mother had some that could be sent to her, but then the letter would not be addressed to her and would not carry the same sentimentality.

She fell into a melancholy lull of sadness. The realisation that she would never again see her name written in her father's loopy scrawl was almost the first concrete notion of him being truly gone. She had not known him in the fourteen years that she'd been in the tower. She'd not heard his voice or seen his face. All she had to go on was letters and what her brothers and mother told her. Even after her release she had only seen him a handful of times. She had always loved him regardless of the distance. He had been taken from her when she had just decided to stay nearby him. The future time they might have had together had been ripped from her. Her thoughts then wandered to her family in the tower and how they were taking the news. A letter after all could only convey so much.

Elizabeth became so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice the shadow that fell over her until she felt a presence sit down beside her between the tree roots. She jumped a little even as Athos put a hand on her knee to steady her nerves. "I've searched all over the gardens for you."

"It's quieter and cooler here," Elizabeth supplied. "Will you please tell me what happened with the Deschamps bec-"

Athos held up a hand to silence her. "Elizabeth I don't want to startle you but I will tell you the truth. Your neighbour was found dead this morning. We think poison was the culprit."

Elizabeth held a hand up to her face to hide her gasp. She felt a knot begin to grow in her stomach. She had not intervened enough that morning perhaps. If only she had gone for help despite their protests. "They were fighting this morning when I left," Elizabeth supplied thinly. "Madame Deschamps was trying to force her husband to leave. He had blood on his shirt."

"What time was this at?"

Elizabeth tugged a hairpin that was causing annoyance from her hair and twirled it between two fingers absentmindedly. "I think it must have been shortly before nine. Of course it is a day for meetings, is that how it was discovered?"

Athos looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"The women's meeting. There was one this morning. What I mean is I take it that Madame Deschamps' absence led to her discovery?"

Athos shook his head warily. "Elizabeth it was not the wife who was killed but the husband."

"What? I thought..." Elizabeth patted her hair nervously. "But then surely you don't think...?"

"The wife? We've considered it but she says she was attending the meeting this morning and there are a crowd of angry women who are her alibi in that she was there from start to finish."

Elizabeth's eyes widened a fraction. "That's nonsense. The meetings begin at seven and usually end somewhere after nine. They have not taken me off their mailing list yet. I still receive the pamphlets through my door every evening - Oh goodness, I have just given her up to you haven't I?"

Athos had moved to stand but he pointed a stern finger at her. "You have done the right thing Elizabeth."

"Those women will be angry with me!"

Athos touched her shoulder gently. "You told me they argued this morning because you thought you were helping the woman. You've done nothing wrong. Stay here and I'll fetch you once I've taken this information to the correct source."

He swept off in a great hurry and Elizabeth felt a pang of nausea. Clearly Madame Deschamps had taken justice into her own hands in killing her husband. All she had needed to do was ask Elizabeth for help. After all she had an apartment all to herself where she might have sheltered the woman. She could not believe things had gone that far. Despite all of the arguments that had occurred over the last weeks, Elizabeth had thought them more akin to a married couple certainly than she and Eric were, and they had not killed one another yet. Elizabeth pulled out her father's watch again and discovered that it was late afternoon already. She did not know where the time had gone. The gardens were not as busy now, and no more blurred colours hurtled through the grass some distance away. She took her cloak off her shoulders and placed it over her legs as a makeshift blanket and sat back against the bark of the tree to rest her eyes until Athos returned.

Elizabeth was awoken by a rough shaking. She blearily opened her eyes to the late evening light and saw Athos at her side. "Oh thank God..." he sighed. "I thought...never mind."

She could see the fear in his eyes though. She imagined him walking towards her across the gardens and seeing her slumped against the tree awkwardly. He had thought for a moment that she was dead. She took hold of his gloved hand. "I'm not quite dead yet Athos, just immeasurably tired. Did you find Madame Deschamps?"

"With the phial of hemlock in her pocket. Aramis knew it immediately. Thanks to your witnessing their argument this morning, we have her at home instead of at the meetings. I do not know why the men who spoke with her this morning did not search her."

Elizabeth thought she could hazard a guess. "I've seen how those women act Athos. They will have been clucking round her like aggravated hens as she cried. I think that would be a frightening prospect for anyone. No one would think her guilty of such a thing. I certainly did not think so. When you spoke to me earlier I assumed that you had found her dead and not the husband. I wonder why she felt she had to do it?"

Athos shrugged then as a dark shadow crossed his eyes. "Do you women need a reason for anything? Forgive me, you I must excuse from this but many women I have come to meet over the years have been callous and cruel. You do not all sit around crocheting and baking. No, I think you are all far more capable than we give you credit for. Look at the life you have led for example. You've run with and supported a husband even at his very worst. There's strength in you despite everything."

Elizabeth felt a wave of sadness wash over her for the musketeer. "I am sorry that someone hurt you so badly. You are a good man. You did not deserve such treatment. Look at how you have looked after me. You're a kind soul."

"Am I?" he questioned as if he did not entirely believe her. "But of course you would think so Elizabeth. You see the world through rose tinted glass. If I were kind I would have left you well enough alone. You believe there is goodness in everyone, even that blasted husband of yours!"

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Athos did not answer her question. Instead he stood up and held out his hand to help her to her feet. "Let me walk you home."


	14. Chapter Thirteen - 10th August 1632

_**Whatfunny; I think Elizabeth was perhaps a little scared to get involved with her neighbour's argument. She's not as brave as the characters I normally write. but she does pluck up some courage at the end of this chapter!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Thirteen - 10th August 1632**_

Elizabeth stared down at her meagre amount of belongings packed into trunks. It always amazed her every time she packed that she had so little so show for a life of twenty two years. The carriage was already waiting outside and She had only to put on her coat. She had not been able to see Athos before she left for he was called away on musketeer business. She had left a note with a musketeer at the garrison who said Athos was not likely to return for a few days. Elizabeth would have liked to have said goodbye, but she had no desire to delay her journey. She did one last sweep of her room to ascertain that she had not forgotten anything before she lifted one end of her trunk to drag it out into the parlour.

The trunk fell back to the floor with a thump as she turned back towards the door and spotted Eric standing there. His face was expressionless as he took in her travelling cloak and trunk. He stepped slowly into the room towards her and Elizabeth took a decided step backwards.

"You're leaving?" Eric asked her slowly. "I thought you liked it here in Paris, Bess. I thought that's why we separated in the first place, because you didn't want to leave?"

"Don't call me that!" Elizabeth snarled at him. "You know as well as I do that our separation was caused by your behaviour over these last six years! I wanted to separate because I wanted my life back Eric. I didn't want to have to always be following you around like some fool! I wanted to have the freedom of choice to go where I pleased. That is exactly what I'm doing now. I'm going into the country. I've signed over the apartment back into the landlord's hands so I have no choice now anyway."

Eric was still advancing towards her slowly. "I didn't think you'd want to leave so soon, not with that musketeer friend of yours sneaking around!"

"What?"

"Did you think I wouldn't find out? I didn't think you were the type Elizabeth! You know, of all the issues we had over the years I always believed you to be chaste and loyal. Now you're cavorting around with a soldier. It appears I was very wrong about you!"

"You're one to talk Eric," Elizabeth replied curtly. "I know you've taken lovers throughout our marriage. I never raised any issue with you though. I only wished you might look to me for whatever those women were able to give you. Well, with my leaving Paris you really will be free to do as you wish Eric. I have no desire to prevent your dalliances. You may do entirely as you please; although that's always been the case. You never really considered my feelings at all did you? Now you stand before me in an attempt to insult me for finding a friendship with someone who did not seek to use me in some way."

"Because that's all our marriage really was wasn't it Elizabeth? Just convenience. It was just a way for our parents to gain money and power. I sought reassurance elsewhere because there was of course one thing you could never give me. I'll not say a word about your compliance and your willingness but I needed a son Elizabeth. You could never give me that, not after what happened in Italy. You were always too delicate."

"Oh don't pretend that you were scared to touch me in case I broke. Do you really expect me to believe that the only reason you've not wanted to conceive another child with me is because you were scared it would make me ill? No, I disgusted you Eric! I knew that the moment you walked away from me in that house in Italy. Even your own brother was ashamed that you had left me there in such a condition. You've not looked at me in the same way since it happened. The fact that our baby died has rendered you completely repulsed by me."

Eric shrugged. "If you wish to see things that way Elizabeth then I cannot stop you. I only came to check on you and see if there was some news of your father's will."

"There's nothing for you!" Elizabeth snapped. "Everything was left to his immediate family."

"So you were left something then? Is it money?"

Elizabeth felt rage begin to build inside her. "If I had any money Eric, I would not give it to you! You've ruined both our lives with your gambling and cheating and scheming and lying! If I had all the money in the world I would not give you a sou! Not after what you've put me through!"

She could see the colour rising in Eric's cheeks as he took the final step and closed the gap between them. His hands were on her upper arms then, gripping painfully as he forced her down into a chair. "You're an ungrateful little harlot Elizabeth! My family gave you a name and protection! Your own family name was in the dust and was likely to sink even further when we took you in! I could have married anyone of my choosing and I took you on! I felt sorry for you! If I hadn't taken pity on you, you'd still be languishing in the tower with your snivelling relatives! They still plague my family for money you know! Once a month the letter comes through asking for money to maintain their stately rooms in the tower and my family oblige because of our marriage. That is what our union brought you Elizabeth. Perhaps you need some time to consider that!"

Elizabeth realised what Eric was about to do as he turned away from her and raced for the door. With a sickening thud she collided with the door as Eric slammed it shut in her face. The key turned quickly in the lock and was removed as Elizabeth cried out. Long after Eric's footsteps had disappeared out onto the stairs she was still pommelling the door with her fists in desperation. Sobbing uncontrollably, Elizabeth eventually gave into exhaustion and sank down onto the floor. Her mind was in a panic as she tried helplessly to think of what she could do.

Elizabeth woke with a jolt. She'd fallen asleep leaning against the door. When she recalled that Eric had locked her in her room hours earlier she immediately pulled herself to her feet and battled a coughing fit as she raced towards the open window. The carriage she had ordered was no longer there, likely sent on by Eric with some lie that she no longer needed it. The street was deserted and Elizabeth sank back down to the floor again. There was no neighbour next door she might have hoped to shout to for help as that woman was locked in the Châtalet for killing her husband. Elizabeth began to sob again as the swift realisation washed over her that a slow and agonising death locked in that room might just be her fate.

Her only hope, she knew was that the landlord may come by when the keys were not returned. That olive branch was all that it took to get Elizabeth rising to her feet again to shuffle towards her bed. She lay there on the cool sheets for a time and tried to sort her thoughts. She had thought Eric to be many things, but she had not considered him to be so cruel. Even though he'd not shown such anger before in his actions and could very well return later that evening or even the next morning to let her out, Elizabeth knew somehow that it was not going to happen. There was a sense of finality about his cold and calculated treatment of her. Elizabeth began to wonder if Eric had known in advance that she had planned to leave that morning. Was he exacting some sick kind of revenge in locking her away so? Perhaps he wanted use of the lodgings still? Would he speak with the landlord and tell him that she was no longer leaving? That sounded like something Eric might do. If he had done so, then the landlord would have no reason to call to the apartment.

Elizabeth felt a knot of worry tighten within her stomach. She rolled onto her front and stared at the trunk she had packed only a few hours ago in anticipation of a peaceful stay in the country. Even if Elizabeth did get out of the room, she would likely be too ill to travel by that point. Eric had destroyed all of her plans. Indeed he had destroyed the life of freedom that she had dreamed of for fourteen years. A sudden decision was made in that moment and she got up and tore over to the writing desk in the corner. She lifted a sheaf of parchment, some ink and a quill and curled up on the couch at the end of her bed. She scribbled a note on the first page that she addressed to Athos.

 _I hope my words are a semblance of truth, and aid you as they have not aided me._

 _To be given only to Athos of the king's musketeers._

Then she began at the beginning, scratching out each memory she recalled of her husband's dealings and his creditors and accomplices. If it was to be the last thing she did, she would ensure that any details that she thought unimportant would still be known to the one person who would be able to act upon them.


	15. Chapter Fourteen - 15th August 1632

_**Chapter Fourteen - 15th August 1632**_

Elizabeth woke with a start as the ink jar fell to the floor and shattered. For a few seconds she let her racing pulse return to normal as she took in the early morning light seeping into the room before she tried to get up to clean up the mess. She wiped a few spots of ink from her face as she shoved away the sheaf of parchment perched on her lap. She'd been dozing in the armchair near the window with her feet propped up on the table. She must have moved slightly in her sleep and knocked the ink jar off the table. She managed to get onto her knees to scoop up the shards of glass onto a piece of blotting paper and crumpled it tightly so no shards could escape. She glanced around her for somewhere to place it but her dressing table was too far away. Given how long it would take Elizabeth simply to return to a standing position, she was not fool enough to attempt to make it to the dressing table. She leaned back against the leg of the armchair and tried to push herself back onto it.

Her arms gave out the first three times she tried, but on the fourth she just managed to lift herself high enough to lower down onto the cushion of the chair. Elizabeth forced herself to sit back with a heavy sigh, the simple action of cleaning up the mess of spilled ink rendering her energy entirely spent. What water there had been in the room, she had consumed the last of the morning before, and there had been no food at all in the five days that she had been locked within her bed chamber. She had been a fool to think in the first day or two that Eric might return. He had made his intentions abundantly clear to her now. He did not care if she lived or died.

On the second day Elizabeth had felt the real dashing of her hopes when she'd caught sight of one of the ladies from the women's group walking along the street below. Elizabeth had shouted herself hoarse until she collapsed in a heap beneath the window to cough up blood into her palm. The woman though had only looked up at her with disdain. She was being judged no doubt for her involvement in the apprehension of Madame Deschamps who had killed her husband. The woman on the street had likely told anyone else that she met there that Elizabeth was mad and had been locked away for her own good. That had been the last time Elizabeth had been able to shout from the window. Little food and water had worked quickly upon her already frail condition and now she was exhausted by merely leaving her seat for a few seconds.

The night before she had heard the landlord at the door as she fell in and out of sleep. She had tried to shout to him from where she sat in the arm chair but no sound would escape her lips. She had simply been forced to listen as the landlord told his man he would come back the next day with bailiffs to evacuate the building. Elizabeth did not hold out much hope for that. They were empty words. She had been left alone for five days and no one had paid her lonely little apartment any attention. It would likely be another five days before the landlord found the time to return and Elizabeth was fully aware that she would not see those five days out. She pulled the sheaf of parchment towards her and tied it together with a ribbon, ensuring that the message to Athos remained at the top. Her work was finally done. She had spent five agonising days scribbling out all of her husband's misdemeanours and adventures sporadically in between bouts of restless sleep. It was finished though, and she finally felt as if she could let go.

There was nothing to keep her fighting against the pull to fall into a rather deep slumber now that she had completed what she had set out to do. She did not know if anything she had to say would be of any use to Athos, but she had known as soon as Eric had left her locked up that she had to try. She needed only to hope that when someone eventually found her, they would see that the sheaf of parchment found it's way into Athos's possession. It was all that she had to offer the first real friend she had managed to make in a very long time. His kindness to her was a gift that she could carry with her no matter where she went, but she was so sorry that there was nothing she could do for him in return.

The tears came then as Elizabeth let herself grieve for the life she had never really had. Her childhood had been stolen from her by her King's advisers when they had locked her family in the tower and forced her mother to give birth there. she'd spent every night since she was old enough to understand that they were under lock and key fearing even the slightest of sounds. A door opening or footsteps on the stone steps outside would have her panicking that something terrible was about to happen. The sound of keys jangling would force nightmares upon her, where she dreamt that someone was come to their room in the bell tower to separate the family. They had been lucky to be housed together, the four of them all in one cramped room. Elizabeth's mother had feared her sons might be stripped from her and locked away in another part of the tower, but miraculously they all managed to stay together.

Even after she had been released, Elizabeth struggled to adjust for months on end. Every night when she closed her eyes she had seen the tear stained faces of her mother and brothers as she had been forced to say goodbye to them. At the age of fourteen Elizabeth had been foolish enough to want to stay within the confines of the tower with her family. She had fought her mother's plan at first but ultimately the three of them had managed to convince her that to leave them behind was the right thing. Even her brothers, just young men and full of life were keen to see her regain some semblance of normal life. If they could not live fully, they at least wanted Elizabeth to. The pain she had felt during that carriage ride away from the tower was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She was alone for such a long time as the carriage wound it's way northward towards Eric's family home. No one had been sent to fetch her, and no one even considered that it might be beneficial to at least meet her at a halfway point. Those painful days were hard to shake off as she was ushered into a grand house that she had not even cared to learn the name of. She had been inconsolable for the first few weeks and Eric's constant rebuttals that she should be glad she was free instead of sad were tiresome.

Eric had never understood the pain of leaving behind her family. In some ways it was easier to be in pain and to stay in the room allocated to her. She'd never been free, and there was so much that she was going to have to learn before she would be agreeable enough to enter polite society. Eric had been annoying more than anything because he knew very well his parents hoped he would marry Elizabeth. He did not want to marry her back then, and she did not think she wanted to marry him. It was Harry who had been overly kind to her and respected all of her emotions. It was Harry who told his parents that they were foolish to still believe someone should keep watch over Elizabeth. She was a flight risk, which was not something Elizabeth had understood at such a tender age. It was only Harry who really understood that although she missed her family greatly, she was indeed glad to be free and determined not to return to the tower. It was Harry who teased and charmed her with his smirks and jokes. Elizabeth had always seen Harry for what he was though; a womaniser. Even though he was sweet to her, Elizabeth knew she could not marry a man who would never be faithful to her. He was always regaling herself and Eric with tales of his exploits and tricks. Elizabeth wanted someone who could be loyal to her. Loyalty was important, because after all the people who had signed the arrest warrant of her parents were ultimately their friends. It was Eric who showed more of a cautious and reserved side. He had spoken of his desire to settle into family life quite often and although Elizabeth was sure that Eric had no interest whatsoever in marrying her, she made a play for him.

If Eric was surprised or annoyed by such an action, he did not show it. Once Elizabeth had made it clear she had chosen Eric over his brother, they were engaged in no time. Even then Elizabeth knew it was likely the lure of money that had Eric so ready to be wed to her. She was sure that the de Veres had told both of their sons that one of them must marry her to secure the fortune they had been promised by her mother. It was a rather strange two years in which Elizabeth spent her time being passed from brother to brother whilst trying to deal with all that had happened to her. Marriage at sixteen did not scare her, for she had trusted Eric to take care of her back then. Marriage was her only option to gain some respectability again, but it felt like she was forming a great friendship with Eric in those first few weeks of marriage. Harry sloped off to the continent with a gaggle of female admirers in tow, all fighting for his hand. His letters had told Elizabeth and Eric that he was enjoying himself immensely. That was when Elizabeth knew she had made the right decision. Marriage to Harry would have spelt disaster.

The sound of an argument outside was what woke Elizabeth from her deep sleep. There were men shouting close by and she could hear them through the window. She wondered if they could be distracted well enough from such an argument to aid her. The slow agonising movement of her legs as she stretched them told Elizabeth that it was unwise to move at all, but she ever so slowly set her feet upon the floor and braced herself to try to stand. Her arms did not feel strong enough to support her weight as they pushed down on the arm rests of the chair. Elizabeth pushed as hard as she could, eventually managing to pull herself out of the chair and into a standing position. She was still unable to let go of the chair though.

"...There is no key Monsieur, no key and no money. Your brother and his wife have played some cruel trick in leaving without returning the keys. I suppose they thought it was funny! A man shall be sent for to change the locks!"

"Just wait! Please?" _Harry._ Elizabeth felt a slight flutter of hope rise within her chest her as she recognised the voice. "There is someone still in there Monsieur! Surely you cannot do anything else until you check the rooms!"

"There is no one there! There has been no one there for days! Your sister in law left word she was leaving five days ago. Indeed my man says he saw the carriage leave! If you do not step away Monsieur, I will send for the red guards!"

Elizabeth sucked in a breath as she realised that she had very little chance left to make them aware of her presence. She opened her mouth to shout, but she could not string a word together. Her dry and parched throat resembled a knot of thorns. She licked her cracked lips with her tongue to try and restore some moisture to them and realised she would have to move towards the window to get their attention. The pain of just standing up was excruciating, but trying to lift one of her feet to step forwards was too much. Elizabeth stumbled forwards, crashing into the table near the window before she tumbled to the floor.

"You see! Do not tell me you did not hear that! There's someone up there Monsieur and you cannot simply change the locks and walk away! You cannot doom someone to the fate of being locked in without the correct keys!"

"It would teach them a lesson!" cried the landlord. "I shall fetch the red guards to look into this."

Harry was calling after the man and Elizabeth realised the landlord must have left. Her heart sank as in her mind's eye she imagined Harry taking off after him down the street. There was a loud thudding upon the door downstairs that told her he was very much still there.

"ERIC? ELIZABETH?" He continued to hit the door loudly. "FOR GOD'S SAKE IF THE LANDLORD COMES BACK WITH RED GUARDS YOU'LL MAKE THINGS WORSE FOR YOURSELVES!"

Elizabeth forced her protesting body into a sitting position and gulped in air, trying to summon up the energy to call out. "H...Ha..." Her voice was raspy, devoid of any power whatsoever, but it was there all the same. "H...Harry!"

Elizabeth sighed heavily. She did not think her voice was strong enough to carry through the open window into the street, but the thudding stopped abruptly. "Elizabeth?"

Tears rolled down ELizabeth's cheeks as she sighed in relief. "I...Ha...Harry I...need you..."

It was a mark of how ill Elizabeth really sounded, that within seconds she heard the sound of the door downstairs being kicked in. Footsteps thundered up the stairs and into the parlour. Harry was calling out to her as he searched each room, but Elizabeth had not the strength to call back to him. Eventually he stopped outside her bedroom door and tried the handle.

"Elizabeth if you're behind this door you need to move. I'll have to kick it in to get to you!"

After a few seconds, Harry seemed to take her silence as a confirmation of her distance from the door. With one swift kick the door flew back to smack against the wall and Harry tore into the room. It took a second for him to spot her as the bed and the large armchair blocked his view. When he caught sight of her though, Elizabeth saw something change within Harry's eyes. He had just realised exactly what had happened in the last five days. He approached her cautiously, smiling gently as if to reassure her that he meant no harm.

"Elizabeth who locked you in this room? What's happened here?"

Elizabeth stared up into the eyes that were so like her husbands and felt her resolve begin to crumble. She shook her head as sobs wracked her body and Harry pulled her towards him, cradling her head in the crook of his neck.

"Sir?" Elizabeth pulled away sharply to search for the source of the new voice, only to find Henry's manservant Peter standing in the doorway of her chamber.

"Boy, fetch me a doctor! The first one you can find and bring him here!" Peter was gone in an instant and Harry moved so that he was behind Elizabeth and lifted her to her feet. She swayed where she stood but Harry held her up with his arm around her waist. "Lets get you onto the bed." They walked gingerly and slowly, skirting around the furniture until Harry was able to push Elizabeth down onto the soft mattress. She hadn't the strength in her arms to pull herself up properly and Harry who quickly noticed lifted her into place against the pillows.

"Thank you," Elizabeth whispered gently.

Harry was gone for a few seconds and returned with a jug of water from the parlour. He poured her a glass and although the water was lukewarm and stagnant Elizabeth drank the whole glass greedily. Harry refilled the glass another three times so that she might drink, and then he settled on the edge of the bed to watch her closely. "Elizabeth, I believe I will not like the answer to my own question, but did Eric lock you in this room?"

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "We...we argued." Elizabeth's voice cracked and shuddered and she began to cough wildly as Harry placed an arm around her back to help her sit straight.

Then there were too many footsteps ascending the stairs for it to be just Peter and a doctor. Harry moved away towards the door and Elizabeth thought she saw anger written all over the side of his face. "What the devil is this? The door is open now Monsieur, there is no need for a brigade of red guards!"

"If there is still someone here then of course there is!" The landlord stopped in the doorway, glaring at Elizabeth.

Harry turned towards her quickly. "Elizabeth how long have you been locked in this room? Two days? Three?" Elizabeth shook her head meekly. "Good God not longer than that surely? Four? Five?" At the last Elizabeth nodded. Eric rounded on the landlord. "You told me you'd been by each day and there was no sign of anyone! This woman has been unwillingly locked inside this room for five days man! Well you can tell your friends here to leave because this lady is too ill to be moved! I've sent for a doctor, so you can return at a later date to discuss the matter of rent! GO!"

The landlord did not move. A red guard moved to stand beside him and re-affirm his authority. "We have reason to believe there might be some scheme to all this Monsieur, drawn up by your brother and his wife to obtain access to these lodgings illegally. Why else would the Madame still be here?"

Harry glared at the red guard incredulously. "What are you trying to say; that she wanted to be locked within this room without food or water for five days? Do you realise what you're saying man? Well? Look at her! LOOK AT HER! NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD SUFFER THAT WILLINGLY."

Elizabeth felt several pairs of eyes upon her then and the red guard seemed to rethink his stance. He took a decided step backwards. "We are still required to search these apartments Monsieur!"

"Hasn't she been through enough? Can't you come back when the lady is recovered? She does not need this stress!"

The red guard shook his head. "I cannot allow for the potential concealment of evidence Monsieur! These rooms must be searched."

"Harry...let them. Th...the sooner they search...the sooner they will be gone." Elizabeth held out her hand towards her brother in law as she pleaded with him, hoping to draw him to her side again and dispel his anger. "I'm...I was the one...shut...in this room. If I can control..my temper, so can you."

"Damn it Elizabeth this is about more than controlling tempers! This is about common decency and propriety-"

"What is the meaning of this?" Elizabeth started at the new voice that entered the fray. She sat up a little against the pillows as a well dressed man pushed his way into the room. There was something familiar about the man's tone of authority, as if she'd heard it before in someone else. He was finely dressed with dark blond hair laced with grey and a moustache. Mud covered the hem of his long cloak and there was a smattering of it up his sides from a hasty ride through the wet Paris streets. His blue eyes took in the state of the room and her dishevelled self on the bed before he turned on the red guards. "Get out, all of you! No one here has authority that matches mine! Take your friends outside with you back to your garrison!"

The landlord appeared crestfallen, but he clearly knew better than to argue with the man. The red guards began to file out, but the landlord stayed where he was. As the last red guard filtered back out into the hallway, a new face appeared around the doorway. Athos marched into the room, his face a mask that showed no emotion as he took in the overturned table by the window and the mess of blankets and parchment by the armchair. His three friends followed, but Elizabeth had eyes only for the sullen musketeer captain as he finally caught sight of her. Confusion marred his features for a second or two before being replaced by an expression of concern.

"Minister what is this?" Harry bellowed in the direction of the well dressed man. "You send away red guards only to bring in musketeers!"

"What's going on here?" The well dressed man asked as he glanced between Harry and Elizabeth. "Athos?"

"I wish I knew Treville. Elizabeth, might we speak alone?" Elizabeth suddenly recalled the name of Athos's old captain who had lately ascended to the role of King's adviser. The finely dressed man before her certainly fitted Athos's description of his mentor.

"No you may not!" Harry cried. "Who are you to address this lady so informally?"

"Harry!" Elizabeth reached forwards to try and catch hold of Harry's sleeve but he stepped out of her reach and she bit back a groan as she fell back onto the pillows.

Athos had stepped forward so that he was right in front of Harry, glaring at him as Harry squared his shoulders. "Monsieur might I ask who you are; and why you happen to be in the Madame's bedchamber?"

"I'm her brother in law! Though what it has to do with you musketeer I do not know! You all need to leave. My sister is unwell and I've sent for a doctor. I'm sure any doctor would take issue with the lady being under this much stress!"

Athos ignored Harry, instead glancing around him to look to Elizabeth. "Is he who he says he is?"

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "This...is Eric's brother Harry. Harry please stop disporting yourself and... come here..." Harry turned towards her again as if he had been slapped. Elizabeth was glad she sounded so hoarse and terrible for the simple reason that it appeared her condition snapped Harry out of his haze of anger and indignation. She held out the glass and he poured her some more water. Elizabeth glanced up as she felt Athos's eyes upon her again and cringed inwardly as his eyes trained on her shaking hands. "Harry, Athos here is my friend," Elizabeth supplied thinly, her voice little more than a whisper. "There will be no trouble from him, and we shall give him none in return. Alright?"

Harry nodded reluctantly and Elizabeth could see behind his eyes that he had so many questions; namely how on earth she had befriended a musketeer. "Will someone please explain why we are here?" Elizabeth glanced up towards Treville as he stared around at them all. "Athos, why have you brought us here?"

"Why...are you here?" Elizabeth asked faintly.

Athos was still staring at her. "A young lad passed us in the street, calling out to ask if anyone knew a doctor nearby. Aramis told him where to fetch one and asked if we could be of assistance. We were all together and when I heard your address I thought something was amiss. I thought you'd gone into the country?"

Elizabeth shook her head tiredly as Harry moved to stand beside the bedpost nearest her head in a protective nature. "She likely would have made it there if it wasn't for my brother." Harry appeared to wish to speak of what he had found when he'd broken into her lodgings and Elizabeth was too exhausted to try to stop him. "I came by to try and stop the landlord changing the locks because I'd not heard from my brother or Elizabeth. I know they were said to have left but I wanted to hear word that they were both settled wherever they had gone."

Elizabeth frowned. Although she did not consider Harry a bad person, there seemed something a little remiss in his answer. "Noble...of you," she sighed.

Harry threw her a scathing look. "It was with the best intentions I assure you. I knew there was bother between yourself and Eric. I did not think it right that the lodgings should be relinquished until you were settled Elizabeth. I was worried you might need to return and would not have a place to call your own. Now I am extremely grateful that I did come by."

"The papers were all signed," the landlord added drily. "Legally I was within my rights to take back this apartment and change the locks!"

"Would you have checked to make sure there was no one still within though?" Eric snapped. "Or would you have changed the locks and been on your merry way?"

"I had no responsibility to-"

Elizabeth grabbed Harry's wrist has he pushed away from the wall, looking as if he might attack the landlord in some way. "No responsibility? This lady was locked in this room for God's sake man!"

Treville turned to Porthos with a nod towards the landlord. "Porthos, see that this gentleman reacquaints himself with the street for a few moments until we are finished here."

The landlord struggled against Porthos's grip but the musketeer was too strong and had the man bundled from the room in mere seconds. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble," Elizabeth supplied quietly as she glanced around the room at them all.

Harry squeezed the hand that still held his wrist. "None of this is your fault Elizabeth!"

"What did you mean when you said the Madame was locked in this room?" Athos had moved towards the bed and was watching them both with a concerned interest.

"I had an argument with my husband," Elizabeth supplied thinly. "When he locked me in I thought perhaps it was just his way of trying to teach me a lesson. He was very angry so I considered that he might come back. After the first day or so I realised that was not going to happen though. I have little strength as it is to find my way out of such a predicament. I am lucky that Harry came by today."

"How long have you been in this room Madame?" Treville asked her.

"Five days," Elizabeth confirmed.

There was a ripple of disbelief throughout the room as all of the men turned to look at each other, shock written all over their faces. Porthos too had just heard her reply as he stepped back into the room. "Doctor's here," he announced. A few seconds later Peter appeared in the doorway with a doctor in tow.

Athos appeared stricken, so much so that Elizabeth took no notice of the doctor as he approached her beside and Harry moved away. She had eyes only for the musketeer and his sorrowful gaze. "When I...I'm sorry Elizabeth. When I received your note I assumed you had gone."

Elizabeth brushed off the doctor's ministrations as he attempted to feel her pulse. "That was the intention of the note Athos. This...none of this is your fault. I expected to be gone from Paris by the time you returned to it. How were you to know."

"Do you know where your husband is Madame?" D'artagnan called to her from the other side of the room.

Elizabeth shook her head. "He could still be in Paris, b..but I doubt it. This is not his usual behaviour. That is; we argue but he has never done anything like this before."

"It still warrants an investigation Madame," Aramis added. "We shall likely be able to smooth things over with the landlord."

The doctor moved back a bit as Harry began to whisper in his hear, telling him what had occurred. "I have not the money to smooth things over I'm afraid. I could contact my father's lawyer. He may be able to free up some funds from my father's estate in due course."

"Who said anything about money?" cried Porthos as he cracked his knuckles. He winked at her and Elizabeth was swiftly reminded again of the pirate stories her mother had told her when she was younger. "We'll sort all that out!"

She smiled wanly at him, feeling tiredness creep upon her again now that all of the excitement was over. The doctor had evidently been appraised of the situation by Harry and was now producing a phial of liquid from his case.

"Shall we give the Madame some privacy?" Treville called to his men as he made for the door again. D'artagnan and Aramis followed, smiling at her sympathetically. Porthos winked at her and turned to leave, but it was the cutting gaze of Athos that tore her heart in two. She knew he felt responsible even though there was nothing in the world he could have done for her.

Harry made to follow the musketeers. "If I can be of assistance in tracing my brother, I'd like to help!" he called out to them. "This is the last straw. He must be brought to account for his behaviour. I'll help in any way I can."

"We'd appreciate your insight actually," D'artagnan replied. "You will have a better knowledge of his more frequented locations in Paris."

Just as Athos turned to leave, Elizabeth recalled her painstaking recording of all of Eric's schemes. "Athos, wait!"

"I'm simply seeing my friends out Elizabeth. I'm not leaving you." All of the other men including Harry had stopped in the doorway and turned to watch the exchange. They were evidently curious about the familiarity between Elizabeth and Athos.

"That...that is for you." Elizabeth lifted a tired arm and pointed to the sheaf of parchment resting on the arm of the armchair.

Athos approached it then and took the sheaf into his hands. She watched as his eyes scanned the personal note she had scrawled for him. "Elizabeth, what is this?"

"It is an account...it...it is all I can remember...of my husband's dealings and schemes since I married him. Perhaps it is not a full account, for I may not be privy to it all or may have forgotten some things. All that I remember is there. You likely know of it all already, but I thought...as there was a chance I might not...I just wanted to do something worthwhile."

Elizabeth felt sobs wracking her body then as Athos's eyes reflected the pain and frustration she'd felt over the last five days. She knew that he understood that she had thought she was going to die in her room, leaving only the legacy of her husband's deceit for the rest of the world to see. Athos pressed the sheaf of parchment into Aramis's hands and approached the bed. he sat beside her and took her hand in his. He was resolved to stay with her for as long as she needed.

Harry appeared lost for what to do as the musketeers finally left the room. Elizabeth tried to reassure him with a smile. "Go harry. Go with them, you might be able to help. I'll be fine."


	16. Chapter Fifteen - 19th August 1632

_**Thanks to Whatfuny for the review! I think this chapter is more of a filler before we come to the beginning of the end of the story!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Fifteen - 19th August 1632**_

Her neck had grown stiff against the arm of the arm of the couch, but Elizabeth did not have the energy to move. She was enjoying the warmth of the fire in front of her and was content to stay where she was. She could not justify lighting more than one fire when it was only for herself so she had made herself comfortable in the parlour. Her bed in her chamber was quite a distance from the fireplace and Elizabeth knew she would not be able to move such a large piece of furniture alone, so she had settled for the parlour couch which she had dragged across the room until she could feel the welcoming heat of the fire.

She spent days on the couch, dozing lightly every so often and trying to ignore the noises from the street outside. All of Paris life was carrying on around her, and for the time being she was content to let it. She felt that physically she had recovered a little from her experience of being locked within her bed chamber for five days but emotionally she was still struggling. In reality, she should have wanted nothing more than to spend her time in the fresh air again, walking around parks and markets but there was a part of her that felt foolish and ashamed. She had married Eric in good faith, but he had turned into a creature so prone to bouts of anger and frustration that he had treated her abysmally. Elizabeth was more than happy to shoulder some of the blame for it all. It was very clear to her now that they had never been compatible. It was not that she thought she'd have found a happy marriage with his brother Harry, but she was beginning to see now what she had not seen all of those years ago. Harry loved people and had a care for everyone. He might have been a bit of a rogue and a rake but he wasn't a bad person. He loved women; loved pleasing and admiring them. He might not have been faithful to Elizabeth if they had married, but she thought that he might have had more respect for her than Eric did. Harry would perhaps have treated her better.

The door to the street opened and closed downstairs, but Elizabeth did not flinch. She'd had the same visitor at the same time each day, and had grown to expect him at such a time. He strode into the parlour as he had done the past four days and set his basket of food on the table. Athos ran a gentle hand over her hair as he lifted her legs from the couch slightly to sit down beside her. Elizabeth moved to sit up and put her feet on the floor but Athos kept hold of her ankles, letting them rest on top of his lap.

"how are you feeling today?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I do feel better today, which I must thank you for. You've been very kind to me. My chest feels a little clearer because I've been eating so well! Between you and Harry, you must have raided the best patisseries in Paris. I just feel a little more drained today. It's as if now that I'm feeling physically well I must now think of everything that happened in more detail. It's exhausting."

"Then don't think," Athos replied softly as he brushed a hand against her hair again. "The bread I've brought will keep for a few hours. Get some sleep."

Elizabeth chuckled lightly. "Athos you did not come here to watch me sleep. That would be rude of me!"

Athos was shaking his head at her. "I came to make sure you were alright. You're tired so I'd rather you slept. I'll stay until your asleep and then I'll go. I can come back later if you like."

There was something comforting about having him so near her as she let herself lie back against the arm rest. With a heavy sigh she closed her eyes, feeling herself begin to drift off almost immediately.

The soft dragging sound invaded Elizabeth's slumber as she tried to turn into a more comfortable position on the couch. She opened her eyes slowly as the scent of the bread Athos had left her wafted across the room. Then she heard the sound again. She sat up and looked around, sure that she was alone in the room. Athos had surely left her hours ago to return to his duties. The sound was coming from down the hallway towards her bedchamber. Elizabeth gingerly placed her feet on the cold floor and stood. She walked a little awkwardly, her mind still fuzzy with sleep. Eventually she was padding down the hallway towards her room, breathing a sigh of relief as she spotted Athos through the crack in the door. She pushed the door gently and it swung open quietly to show her the musketeer dragging her large bed across the room all by himself. She stood and watched, a little transfixed by the strength in his arms as he moved the bed with relative ease until it was only a few feet from the fireplace.

He did not notice her presence until he had confirmed the bed was in the right spot and turned towards the door again. He smiled gently at her as he approached and Elizabeth realised that he'd perhaps fallen asleep with her on the couch for a time. His hair was slightly ruffled and he'd disposed of his doublet.

"What are you doing Athos?" she asked as she walked towards him and rested her hand on his arm.

He stared down at her, his warm smile becoming almost wistful. "I thought I'd give you somewhere more comfortable to sleep. You can't sleep on that couch Elizabeth. It's not comfortable in the slightest. If you actually slept in a bed you might get a good night's sleep. You'll be back on your feet quicker." Elizabeth began to cough again as she found fault with Athos's statement. She reached for a vial of tonic on a side table and sipped it gently.

"I'm not going to get back on my feet Athos. I thought you would know that by now. This is the beginning of the end I think. I am only sorry I am not well enough to go into the country. I don't want to die here like some spectacle for everyone to gawk at!"

She saw frustration flare in Athos's eyes. "Elizabeth I just wish you'd have a little faith in yourself! You've stronger than you believe. If you would only take care of yourself then you might actually start to see a difference in how you feel. There are still doctors you might see-"

"Athos how am I to pay these doctors?" Elizabeth cried. "I have little money left with which to afford a fire! There would be absolutely no point in paying another doctor to tell me what countless already have!"

"I can help you," Athos offered. "I'm sure your brother in law would like to do something for you also, considering it was his brother that made your condition worse!"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to let out an angry retort but a wracking cough replaced it. She felt the room begin to spin then, the bed post to her left twisting and turning even as she reached out to grab if to support. She could hear Athos close to her but he was beginning to slip away as the light began to fade and she felt something forcing her to stay upright when all she wanted to do was fall. She clutched at her chest as if that might help her gulp in air even as everything faded to black.

Elizabeth's own coughing woke her. She flew into an upright position on the bed as she coughed blood into the palms of her hands. She could feel Athos clutching her to him, anchoring her to the room. The coughing was beginning to worry even her, for it had never been so bad. All of her energy was spent within minutes and she sagged against Athos, wondering vaguely how on earth she had envisioned going into the country to die without the support of a friend around her. He had been such a comfort to her, such a help that it was harder than ever before for Elizabeth to consider how anyone might want to hurt the man. The woman who had torn his heart in two must have been purely evil to do such a thing.

Elizabeth took a long while to catch her breath after her coughing fit, gesturing to Athos to fetch her one of her tonics from a nearby table rather than asking him. He did so quickly and Elizabeth did not sip the tonic but drank the whole vial. She had realised that perhaps she was going to have to increase her intake of it to find some ease. She lowered the empty vial and replaced the cork. When she glanced back up, Athos was staring at the vial curiously, as if he had only just realised something.

"Do they really help you?" he asked her as he sat back down beside her.

"I don't know about help," Elizabeth mused. "Not in the long run. "It eases the heaviness in my chest for a while and prevents the coughing for a time. It's easing my pain. I do not think it will really make any difference to my condition though. I think I may be beyond that kind of help now, Athos."

"You've not got much of it left," he replied.

Elizabeth glanced towards the table to see that Athos was right. There were only enough vials left to cater for a few more days, depending of course on her condition. "Well, as I've been feeling generally better, I think I'll venture out tomorrow to fetch something. The walk and the air will do me good, no doubt."

Athos shook his head incredulously. "Elizabeth you just collapsed! How can you be feeling better? I'll go and fetch them for you! Tell me what you need and where to find it and I'll go first thing in the morning!"

She batted away his words as he spoke. "I'm just tired and worried about money. I'm sure the stress is not helping me. I want to go myself, honestly. I might take a walk in the gardens whilst I am out! I'll take a book with me and if I tire easily I can rest somewhere for a while. You were right in what you said. I should be taking better care of myself and hiding in this apartment is not a good thing. I need to return to the world of the living."

"Well then I will consent to let you go Elizabeth, but take it easy. Don't rush yourself! I need to be back at the garrison rather early or I'd go with you."

Elizabeth placed her hand gently on his chest over his heart. "Athos, I'm not a porcelain doll. I can manage a walk to buy some herbs and for a gentle stroll in the park. You have to let me do things for myself."

She knew that he understood her want of independence by the haunted look that crossed his face. They were both a little two stubborn to accept help sometimes. That determination was what had kept them alive though, she knew as she let Athos pull her back down to lie in bed.


	17. Chapter Sixteen - 25th August 1632

_**Elizabeth's troubles reach a head in this chapter, and we find out that all is not what it first seemed.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Sixteen - 25th August 1632**_

Elizabeth could not fathom why she had thought that the streets might feel different. They were the same as they had always been. She therefore was resigned to acknowledge that it was indeed herself who had changed. She had not spent very long periods of time outdoors since the incident where she was locked in her room, and as a result the fresh air and sounds were not something she felt acquainted with any more. She'd only really ventured out for a walk around the park and to the apothecary and back.

She'd had no choice but to go in search of more tonics. Her supply of them was depleting rapidly and Elizabeth had more than once wondered if somehow Eric might have stolen some from her. Was it possible that he had returned to the lodgings and managed to sneak in? Harry had changed the locks of course, but Eric was a schemer after all. He would see the changed locks as a challenge rather than a certain defeat. Elizabeth was well aware though that her memory was not what it once was. She had considered that she could be waking in the night and taking some tonic to try and soothe her cough, thus using up more of it than she thought. It did not seem untoward that she might forget something so trivial.

It was her second trip to the apothecary in just a few days, but Elizabeth wanted more than tonics this time. In spending so much time with Athos, she had forgone her usual dabbling with opiates and laudanum, not because she did not need them but because she knew that Athos would not approve. She had her suspicions that he might have dabbled himself over the years but of course he would cite her illness as reason enough for her to abstain. Elizabeth had grown tired of the almost sleepless nights though. If nothing else, she wanted some laudanum to aid her sleep. Athos was no longer staying with her at night and she was glad of it, for she felt worse each morning than she had the day before. She was shamed for anyone to see her in that state.

The bell tinkled over the door of the small shop as she entered, her list of ingredients for her tonic clutched in her gloved hand. She handed it over with a small smile for the apothecary and turned to browse the shelves whilst she waited. An older woman did the same on the other side of the shop. Elizabeth waited until the older woman had retrieved her potions, paid for them and left the shop before she dared ask the apothecary for the extra things she wanted. He levelled her with a look that might have caused some people to doubt but Elizabeth held his stare. She'd visited his shop before and she was sure that he recognised her. Sure enough, after a few seconds of deliberation, he placed another few vials onto the counter.

Elizabeth hid her shock as she glanced into her coin purse and saw how much money she had left. She had just enough to pay for her potions, but little besides. She paid the man because she felt too ashamed to admit that she had no money. It would have felt rather foolish, standing there in what was actually quite a fine dress even if it was just slightly out of fashion and trying to convince someone that she'd fallen on hard times. She'd have to do the one thing she'd resolved never to do and ask Harry for some money. She did not think he would mind in the slightest, but she knew his parents would likely have a thing or two to say on the matter. She knew that Eric's words had been cruel and he'd been trying to hurt her but Elizabeth had wondered if there was perhaps some truth in it all. Were her in-laws growing frustrated with having to provide for her mother and brothers?

Elizabeth pushed the thoughts from her mind, well aware that she would end up with a torturous headache if she let herself dwell on such things. She took the phials from the counter and placed them in her coin purse. It was too bulky to place back into her pocket so she held it's strings in her hand and left the shop. As soon as she had crossed the threshold back out into the street, Elizabeth knew that something was wrong. It was as if something had clamped hold of her heart, stopping it from beating in those few seconds. She sucked in a frightened breath as a shadow crossed her vision and before she knew it, Elizabeth had been dragged from the shop front into an alleyway.

She was thrown against the wall and Elizabeth clutched the uneven bricks behind her to keep herself upright. Eric was leaning over her, his hands either side of her face. "What a coincidence finding you here Elizabeth!"

"Get off me!" Elizabeth pushed against his chest but she was not strong enough to even cause Eric to flinch. He laughed cruelly at her feeble attempt to put distance between them both. "What do you...want Eric?" Elizabeth had begun to cough and could feel a pressure on her chest again.

"I want to know what you've told that musketeer that's hanging onto your skirts!" Eric snarled as he leaned in closer and Elizabeth's breaths became shallow and fast. "You're not a fool Elizabeth but I think you might even consider spilling secrets to someone who was able to promise you the protection of a whole brigade of militia. I looked into your friend. He's a musketeer captain. Does it make you feel good; having a soldier in your bed? Does it make you feel powerful knowing that you could bring such trouble about for me?"

"I...I don't...I have..." Elizabeth stammered. She coughed harshly, blood landing in the palm that she held up to cover her mouth.

Eric grabbed her arms and held her in place as she felt her knees buckle. "I want to know what you've told that musketeer! God knows you've always known too much! I was foolish to think you'd keep my secrets!"

Elizabeth shook her head as her vision became cloudy. keeping Eric in her sights was all the more important after what he had done to her recently. "Everything..."She spluttered. "I...I told him everything...I know."

"So you betrayed your husband? The man who has sheltered and kept you these last six years? We could have had so much longer if only you'd been happy to comply! Your current state is your own fault Elizabeth. I would have continued to protect you as my wife if you hadn't gotten all of these ideas above your station!"

"Is that why you locked me in my room?" Elizabeth asked as a sob tore through her throat. She coughed again, the blood missing her palm and landing on Eric's doublet. She saw the anger in his eyes as his grip of her upper arms tightened so much so that Elizabeth yelped in pain.

"I locked you in a room to teach you a lesson Bess. A lesson you do not appear to have learned! I wish to God I'd stopped Harry from freeing you! It would have saved me no end of problems!"

"That's what I am?" Elizabeth asked quietly, surprising herself with how much pain she heard in her tone. "I'm a problem? I don't know...where the man I married...has gone. You...you were so..."

"I was so what?" Eric snarled. Elizabeth couldn't form the words as a strange sensation came over her. She could feel the blood rising within her chest, coughing it up uncontrollably as Eric began to shake her violently. She cried out for him to stop and knew what his reaction would be. They were not far from a crowded street and someone would have heard them.

Eric slammed Elizabeth into the wall behind her and her head bounced off it. She saw stars for a few seconds, the world spinning out of focus as Eric's whispered threats and the smell of his cologne were the only stable things. "Stop!" She yelled suddenly, sure that someone would hear her from the street. "Let me go now!"

As things came back into focus, Eric's eyes were panicked. "Do not think I will not return Elizabeth. I want to know what you've told that musketeer! This is not the end!"

As soon as his grip loosened Elizabeth fell to the ground. There was a smashing sound as she landed in the dust, unable to stand for the sobs and coughs that wracked her body. She knew that her dress would not fare well and must be covered in blood by now, but she had a new increasing worry. She tried wiping away her tears and her runny nose with the back of her sleeve but it came away bloody. Her nose was bleeding profusely and Elizabeth fumbled with the strings of her coin purse. Her handkerchief was sodden though, as the vials had broken her fall, but they had smashed in the process. She began to weep anew for the money she had lost, for now she did not even have a tonic to ease her pain.

A woman's voice floated somewhere above her head. "Madame? Madame can you stand? Help me get her up will you? We'll take her back to my old home, it's closest."

Touches to both of her arms had Elizabeth panicking, but the touches remained lightly firm. She was pulled to her feet and she swayed where she stood, not recognising the man and woman at first. They threw her arms over their shoulders and began to walk, holding on to her waist tightly. "Please...where..." Elizabeth began to plead but she was interrupted again by the woman with the kind voice.

"Don't try to talk. You're in a terrible state. Try and pinch your nose if you can! You're safe with us. My husband's a musketeer. You'll tell us who's done this to you and he'll find them out!"

"No...I..." Elizabeth coughed again so forcefully that she lost her balance altogether. She felt their hold of her tighten, but not in an invasive manner. They were trying to hold her up.

"Stop trying to talk, you're making yourself worse Madame." She knew the voice. Elizabeth was almost sure it was Athos's youngest musketeer friend.

"Athos...no..." The woman had produced a clean and dry handkerchief from somewhere and pinched Elizabeth's nose through it, forcing Elizabeth to throw her head back. Unable to talk she was left listening to the couple's conversation as they moved.

"You know Athos then?" The woman again.

"She and Athos are _friends_ apparently," D'artagnan replied for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth tried to protest because the young couple clearly thought that someone had violently attacked her and caused the bleeding, but Eric had only shaken her a little. It was no use though, she was coughing and crying too much to get any words out. Much sooner than expected Elizabeth felt a shadow pass over her head and looking around, she found herself in the hallway of a house. The couple led her to a chair in some form of parlour or dinning room. Still staring at the ceiling with the woman pinching her nose, there was not much that Elizabeth could see to determine where they were or what the house was like.

"Now," the woman began. "D'artagnan go and fetch the others. Be quick about it!"

"The others?" he asked curiously.

"Well obviously someone has done this to her! She's been attacked and I'm damned if I'm letting red guards handle it!"

Elizabeth tried yet again to protest but still she could not speak for coughing. "Don't you need help here? I can fetch water and-"

"I'll sort all that," the woman snapped hurriedly. "Just go!"

The sound of D'artagnan's footsteps retreated until he closed the door behind them and was gone. There was still silence for a few moments as the woman appeared to be waiting to see if Elizabeth's nose had stopped bleeding. She lifted the handkerchief briefly and Elizabeth tried to put her put her head down, but the woman snapped the handkerchief back into place and pushed Elizabeth's head back again.

"I'm sorry," the woman murmured. "Lets get this stopped first. My name is Constance. My husband D'artagnan is a musketeer, as I think you know. Whoever hurt you; you must tell my husband and his friends. They will ensure that whoever did this meets justice. To attack you in the street like that-" Elizabeth tried to interrupt again but all that she could do was cough. "It was damned cowardly and I'm surprised no one else heard it all!"

Elizabeth waited quietly for a while longer as the woman fumbled with things on the table with one hand whilst pinching Elizabeth's nose with the other. At length she checked again, and to the relief of both women the bleeding had stopped. Elizabeth was released from the woman's grip and a bowl of water and some cloth was pushed towards her across the table.

"Here, get yourself cleaned up. I don't think there'll be any saving that dress of yours though." Constance sat down facing her on the other side of the table. "At least you still have your coin purse though! Unless of course they weren't trying to rob you. You don't know who did this to you, do you?"

Elizabeth coughed then, but this time she managed to find her voice in the time that Constance gave her to speak. "That's what...what I've been trying to tell you, I was not attacked." Elizabeth was surprised to find her voice raspy and uneven.

"But your face! Your nose-"

Elizabeth waved a hand to halt Constance's speech. "It is merely a nose bleed Madame. These things happen from time to time. I have been ill. It is a symptom."

Constance was shaking her head at her. "Madame my husband and I heard you shouting. You were struggling with someone. Do not tell me I did not hear that!"

Elizabeth winced as she sat forward a little and lent on the table. "You did hear it Madame. I had an argument with my husband. We are currently estranged and there have been some recent-"

Constance stood abruptly. "You are the Madame that D'artagnan told me of. Your husband locked you in your bed chamber and left you for days..." Constance looked upon her with so much sympathy that Elizabeth had the sudden urge to slap her. She did not though. The musketeer's young wife was showing her kindness and it was appreciated but she did not want the sympathy of those who thought she was hard done by. She had walked into her marriage, and had stayed with her husband even though she knew exactly what he was like. She was to blame in effect, for quite a lot of what had befallen herself. "Then what happened Madame? If he did not attack you then where has all of this blood come from? You've been crying this whole time Madame. Something has upset you."

Elizabeth began to shake her head slowly. "I believe tears have been a regular occurrence lately. I think the shock of the nose bleed brought them along as much as anything else."

Elizabeth glanced down at her wrist then, realising for the first time that the strings of her coin purse were still attached there. That was why she had not dropped it in all of the commotion. It was sodden, the liquid slowly oozing though the velvet material and into a puddle on the table. She released the strings from her wrist and let them slacken, pulling the purse open to find a small congealing mass of laudanum and her tonic with shards of glass. It was then that she realised that in a way, Eric had assaulted her. He had done so with each look he threw her for many years and Elizabeth had let it happen. He had taken almost everything from her. She was staring down at what little money she had left to her name and it was all in pieces. At least if she'd had some money, she could have died with dignity. Eric had stolen that from her. The fat tears cascaded down her face unchecked and Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. She sensed Constance rounding the table towards her and felt comforting hands land upon her shoulders.

The latch on the front door of the little house lifted and the sounds of heavy booted footsteps on the floorboards reached them. Then the door to the little parlour opened.

"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth lifted her face from her hands in time to watch Athos set his hat down on the table and pull a chair around to sit beside her. He took hold of her wrist gently and turned her where she sat so that she faced him. He scrutinised her face as he cupped her cheek gently in his hand. "What happened?"

"I...I saw Eric. He...we had an argument of sorts. He wanted to know what I'd told you. I think the stress of it all brought on this nose bleed."

Athos was gazing at her intently as if trying to ascertain if she was lying or not. "So he did not cause this? He did not hit you?"

Elizabeth shook her head, feeling slightly small and overwhelmed with them all staring at her. "I...your friends heard me and came to help but..."

"Elizabeth no one here is judging you. Just tell me the truth. No buts or excuses. Your husband is the last person you should be making excuses for after all that he has done to you! Do not think to protect him, not when you are in this state and he just abandoned you like that. If he cared he would be here. He would not have left you."

"He wouldn't have locked you in your bedchamber alone for days either," Porthos said from behind Athos.

"Tell me what happened." Athos's words were carefully sincere even though Elizabeth could see tension building behind his eyes.

"I went to fetch some tonics. Eric must have been waiting for me. I suppose he thought he could not chance approaching me near my apartment in case you were there. He wanted to know what I'd told you Athos. I think perhaps I know something that is of importance, that might cause Eric trouble. I do not know what it is. You may need to look over all of the information that I gave you, for I have not the concentration or energy to figure it out myself. Eric did not hurt me or hit me... he was holding onto my arms tightly but he did not hit me."

"Elizabeth you are shaking," Athos whispered as he took her hands into his. "Did he frighten you?"

"I...That is..." Elizabeth felt the fight drain out of her then and she fell against the back of the chair. "Yes."

"Then that's just as bad," Athos replied. "You won't like me telling you what to do Elizabeth but you cannot be around that man in your state. He's clearly dangerous and you aren't well enough to fight him off should he try anything! Look how worked up you are just from one altercation with him in the street! He is not helping your condition in any way. We do not know what would have happened if you had been somewhere more isolated and no help was at hand."

"I don't think Eric would seriously try to hurt me," Elizabeth replied. "I know what he did in locking me up might have been tantamount to murder but I do not think he meant it to go that far."

Athos gazed at her wearily as if he willed her to believe what he did for a few seconds before he turned back to his friends behind him. "Might Aramis and I have a word alone with the Madame?"

Constance threw Athos a curious glance even as she stood and began to follow Porthos and D'artagnan from the room. Athos ignored the glare and instead tugged the mess that was Elizabeth's coin purse towards him. "What happened to this Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth felt tears pricking her eyes again as she looked down at the sodden mess. "When I fell the vials smashed. It was all the money I had left...it was all..."

Elizabeth began to sob loudly and Athos drew her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she cried against his chest. She missed the apprehensive glance that he threw Aramis over her shoulder. At last, when Elizabeth's sobs had quietened and she felt brave enough to surface again she pulled away from Athos, but it was Aramis who spoke first.

"Madame, I do not think that to consume any more of those tonics would be wise."

Elizabeth looked from one man to the other as their frowns deepened. "Why? What can you mean by that?"

Aramis threw Athos a dubious glance. "I think you must tell her now Athos."

Athos sighed heavily. "Elizabeth I took some of your vials."

"What? Why would you do that?" she questioned him haughtily. "You know I have a need of them! I knew there were some missing but I didn't think...Why would you do that when you know I need them?"

Athos reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders in case Elizabeth should decide to move away from him. "Elizabeth you need to understand things from my perspective. You may think that those tonics are helping you, and the laudanum and the opiates that you think I don't know about. All it does is help you sleep for a few hours. It's not serving any purpose in terms of your condition. I was seeing that for myself. The more of it you consumed, the more you needed. Something did not seem quite right to me so I acted on impulse. I took some with the mind to have them tested. If nothing was found I'd of course have replaced them and apologised profusely."

Elizabeth turned as Aramis placed the missing vials on the table and sat down. There was about half of the contents missing from each. They had clearly been tested thoroughly. "What do you mean if you had not found something...did you find something?"

Aramis nodded slowly. "Madame, within these vials and certainly the rest of the batch that they came from, it is almost certain they were laced with arsenic."

There was still silence as Elizabeth tried to process the marksman's words. "That's not possible...how? What are you saying; that the apothecary was tampering with them before he gave them to me?"

Athos sighed. "No, we do not think the apothecary was aware that there was anything untoward in the tonics. Indeed we do not think there was anything wrong with the ones you ever left his shop with. They were more more than acceptable for consumption. We think that someone has gained access to your apartments and tampered with them there."

Elizabeth heard the unsaid meaning behind those words. "Someone who has a key you mean? You are insinuating that Eric has been trying to poison me? That just sounds so...mad."

Aramis and Athos shared another glance. "Your brother in law does not have a key," Athos continued. "There has been no one else that has spent time in your apartment, excluding myself. I trust Elizabeth that you do not think I would do this!"

"Of course not!" she cried.

"Then I believe your husband is the only other suspect we have. Up until a few days ago he still had a key. He could have easily gained access and tampered with anything in the apartment."

"Why would Eric want to kill me?" Elizabeth cried exasperatedly. "I do not understand any of this!"

"Elizabeth I need you to think," said Athos. "Why would your husband lock you in your room and leave you there to potentially die? Would he not return if he still cared for you in any way? Would he not return out of common decency?"

Aramis spoke again. "Madame perhaps you could tell us when you first began to feel truly ill?"

Elizabeth turned to gaze at him. "You're saying that I'm not really dying? That I'm not really ill; or at least in the sense of a natural occurrence? That my illness is caused by poison?"

Aramis nodded. "I believe Madame, that you told Athos your mother had experienced some form of lung condition whilst within captivity?" Elizabeth nodded apprehensively. "Then it is my belief that you yourself had a similar if not the same condition. This poison in small doses has lowly exacerbated that condition, to the point where it is slowly killing you. I'm afraid I cannot say how it might have affected you. If you were to stop consuming it now, I cannot be sure that you would make any kind of recovery. To be sure, I think you would always have some form of lung condition even if you managed to recover some strength. I cannot be certain that abstinence at this stage would be beneficial in any way. The only thing you can do is try. Can you think far enough back to when you think this all started?"

Elizabeth felt her stomach clench. "It started in Italy." She sucked in a heavy breath, not entirely sure how ready she was to discuss it all again.

She threw Athos a look and saw that he understood her pain. Aramis looked between them both for a few seconds and then asked, "What happened in Italy Madame?"

Elizabeth sniffed. "I lost my child. When we left England I was with child. By the time we reached Italy I was ill. I lost the child, but the doctors there were expecting a quick recovery for myself. I was relatively young and healthy in their eyes. It took quite a while. I was very ill for some weeks. Eric left me. He left me all on my own. I did not speak any Italian back then and I couldn't understand them! We communicated in French; the little of it they could speak. They did not speak English. I was so frightened. It was the worst six weeks of my life. Harry found out what had happened and he came to me. He was furious with Eric for leaving me like that. I don't think he ever forgave him for it. Eric told me he'd thought I was going to die and that he'd panicked, that he didn't want to be there when it happened. I thought at the time that it was odd and selfish but Eric was not a very brave person. I knew that by then. That was when everything changed between us. He did not want me to be his wife, I knew that. We resembled brother and sister more than anything else. He did not want me any more. I repulsed him. I thought that he blamed me for losing the child; that he was angry with me. Then I started to feel ill and the distance between us widened even further."

There was silence for a few moments as the men let her words settle. "That is likely when he started lacing the tonics Madame. Let me guess, it was your husband who first introduced you to them to aid your lung condition?"

Elizabeth paled as the realisation washed over her that what Aramis had guessed was entirely true. "I do not understand why he would want me dead. There are other ways for a husband and wife to separate!"

"Not for Catholics," Athos stated blandly. "We think Eric wanted your money. He wanted you ill; in a weakened state so that when the opportunity arose for him to kill your father, he could then kill you sometime afterwards. You are the only free member of your family and the custodian of any wealth that your father may leave behind after his death. Eric likely thought he knew a loophole in which he could inherit it all. It would also leave him free to marry again, likely far above his station."

Elizabeth was dumbfounded. "This is madness..."

"Elizabeth he's going to be aware that you have friends, that you have help. He will have been watching D'artagnan and Constance bringing you here. He is no fool. He will know the value of friendship and will think he needs to be free of you sooner rather than later, before anyone can get close enough to suspect anything. That is why you've never been able to make any friends. He has been keeping you at arms length, ill but alive until the opportune moment. This has all been orchestrated very carefully. He is going to come for you."

Elizabeth began to tremble. "I don't know what to do."

Athos took her hands again. "You might not want to, but you're going to have to trust me."


	18. Chapter Seventeen - 28th August 1632

_**Chapter Seventeen - 28th August 2018**_

What choice had Elizabeth really had, but to trust the musketeer. She did not want to drag him into her domestic grievances if it was not necessary but it was quickly becoming clear to her that she was entirely out of her depth. She had nodded slowly to Athos, giving her agreement and consent but she had not trusted herself to speak. Porthos had offered to walk her home some time later, to which Athos abruptly protested.

"You must leave the way you came I am afraid Elizabeth. Myself, Aramis and Porthos must leave first and appear to return to duty. Then Constance and D'artagnan can help you get home. Eric must believe you to be as alone and vulnerable for our plan to work. He must be sure that you are in your apartment alone and without any protection. Therefore D'artagnan and Constance will take leave of you at your own front door. We can reconvene at the appropriate time in our chosen location. I know you still doubt our words but Elizabeth, this is the only assured way to prove all of this to you, and to entrap your husband."

Elizabeth sat quietly whilst three musketeers left, leaving her in the company of only D'artagnan and Constance. It was still not entirely clear to her how on earth Athos thought their scheme might lead Eric to her but she knew there was little option left for her. She was going to have to play the proverbial bait in their game.

The coldness of the apartment was something that Elizabeth felt keenly as she changed into her nightdress behind the screen and then stuffed her arms into the sleeves of a thick robe to warm herself. She carried out her nightly routine as she always did. She sipped from a vial of what someone might think was tonic or laudanum but was in fact just sugar water and ensured that she could be seen doing so from the window. Then she moved about restlessly from room to room as she might always have done. At length she lit the candles in her bedchamber and closed the door. She settled down with a book but she could not find the concentration to catch the printed words with her eyes. Her nerves were upset at the thought that Eric could even at that very moment be keeping watch of her apartment, waiting for the opportune moment when she was fast asleep to pounce.

After what seemed like a reasonable time to her, Elizabeth threw her book down to the end of the bed and lay down. She drew the counterpane up around her but ensured that it did not twist itself around her as she lay on her side. To be tangled within the counterpane was to place herself in a a rather precarious position. There was no hope of sleep for Elizabeth because she could feel her hands trembling. She could hear every slight sound from within the house and from the street outside. She could hear her own heartbeat even as she tried to relax and slow down her breathing. She needed to appear to be asleep. So she lay in bed for hours with the terror and worry enveloping her as she waited for what Athos was sure would happen. She could not even decipher the time as the clock ticked absentmindedly because her mind was so addled.

It was when there was the softest creaking sound from the door of her bedchamber that Elizabeth really did freeze in fear. With her eyes clamped shut she desperately tried to keep her breathing steady and slow so as to appear to be asleep. The footsteps were too light to be heard, but Elizabeth could sense the motions of someone drawing closer to the bed, someone who desperately did not want to be discovered. Something moved at the bottom of the bed. She could still feel her book through the counterpane with one of her feet which left the only the cushions she had thrown down to the other end of the bed to find more comfort. An icy hand of fear gripped Elizabeth's heart and she could not have breathed even if she wanted to. In her mind she imagined the crazed Eric standing over her as she slept, cushion in hand ready to smother her to death. She fought those images, fought to stop herself from screaming even as she sensed him coming closer.

It was the strangest few seconds, for Elizabeth almost thought that Eric was reaching out to touch her, perhaps to curl a few strands of her hair around his finger one last time.

"Don't touch her!"

Elizabeth's eyes flew open and she met the sight that had been her imagination, only there was nothing crazed about her estranged husband. No, he was so calm and collected that it was almost more frightening than the image her mind had conjured up. Athos appeared from behind the bedpost and curtains with his pistol drawn and Elizabeth sat up and scrambled across the bed towards him, putting distance between herself and Eric. She felt Athos's hand clamp tightly down upon her shoulder as she reached him. The door to her chamber opened again but with force and noise this time. The three musketeers who had positioned themselves in various hiding places within her apartment tore into the room with their pistols drawn.

Elizabeth turned back to Eric and saw the disappointment and shock in his face. She knew in that moment that he really had been about to kill her. Stood at the side of her bed with a cushion held aloft, he had been about to kill her in the most inconspicuous way he could conceive. Then he'd have smashed up the phials on the table to make it seem like she'd had some frenzied coughing attack and died alone. He'd have poured the tonic and the laudanum all over the bed and its curtains. He'd have made her look a sorry mess to the world. That was how little he thought of her. She really was a means to an end. She turned away from him then, deciding that she would never look upon him again, the man who had promised her freedom and contentment if not love, but had taken everything from her. She buried her head in Athos's doublet and tried to ignore Eric's fruitless attempts to fight the musketeers.

There would be no looking back, not for Elizabeth. Once he left the room she vowed never to think of him again. Athos held her tightly to him and Elizabeth for the first time in years questioned her own beliefs. If God were real, he might just have sent a man like Athos to her in her time of need. Although neither of them were ever likely to consider marriage again and were both so torn apart by what they considered to be love, they were still good people. It was a mark of reassurance that they could find one another and share emotions and feelings and still part as friends. That was what they would have to do, they would have to part. Elizabeth would have to leave and try to recover what she could of her life. If she really was to recover a little and win back the years of her life that Eric had almost stolen from her, she needed to do it all alone.

Could she grow to love a man like Athos? Almost certainly. She did not need to love another in her time of healing. It was a love for her own self that she needed to foster and grow. Athos would never love her the way she could potentially want him to, so she needed to release him from his obligations. She needed to set them both free.


	19. Chapter Eighteen - September 1632

**So here we are at the final chapter! Thanks to Whatfunny for the review! I felt like I needed to post the last chapter and the epilogue together as who wants to read a last chapter and then have to wait even more?**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eighteen - September 1632**_

Harry had not believed Elizabeth was really leaving Paris until the carriage arrived in the street. She'd packed only one trunk and felt such a sense of freedom to be leaving alone to venture wherever she wanted to go. A few months in the country with some peace and solitude was what she desired above all else so that she might heal both physically and emotionally. She had seen many doctors over the last weeks at Harry and Athos's insistence to see if they might recommend aids for her recovery. They had said the same as Aramis, that there was no right answer to what might befall her. She still felt dreadfully ill after weeks of abstinence from the poison she had unwillingly consumed for years. The effects of it upon her person were undefinable. The damage might be irreparable after such repetitive use. The country called to her as it had never done before. Such recovery; if it were possible needed to be something that she fought for alone. Elizabeth felt shamed and hostile to Paris after all that had happened and she did not know if she would ever return.

Athos understood her feelings readily. They were not lovers any more, just friends. She liked him just as well as a friend. Without his help and interference, Eric would likely have succeeded in ending her life. Now she had the chance to really take that life back if she gave herself the chance to recover.

Harry carried her trunk downstairs and out to the waiting carriage. He shook his head as he deposited it on the seat and turned back to her. He thought she was still too ill to travel. Elizabeth thought he was likely correct, but Paris was suffocating her just as Eric had attempted to do. She needed to leave before it completely overwhelmed her. Her brother in law hugged her fiercely and Elizabeth knew that he blamed himself for Eric's behaviour. Harry thought that if he had intervened he might have been able to stop his brother. He even blamed himself for not marrying Elizabeth so that he might have saved her from the torment she had endured over the last six years. It meant a great deal to Elizabeth that he felt such a way, but it only made her more determined to leave. Harry needed to live his own life, and he could not do so whilst he spent every waking minute trying to atone for the actions of his brother.

Elizabeth stepped out of his arms and into the waiting ones of Athos. He kissed her as he had done the first time and Elizabeth knew he was not trying to make her stay. He was reminding her that if she could attract such a wounded soul as Athos was, that she could make friends and lovers and a family anywhere she went. He was yet again sewing together the broken pieces of her heart. Elizabeth did not want to say goodbye to him, so she did not. When she finally pulled out of his embrace she patted his chest lightly, just over his heart.

"You know, every once in a while you must learn to let someone in there musketeer. You are not all that you think you are. I could have loved a man like you, married a man like you. I could have built a life and a family with a man like you. There will be other women who will think the same. You do not have to share those feelings. You can still love without planning for the future. God knows, I did. Let this be a lesson to you that lovers can still part as friends. You are worth caring for Athos, worth loving. Once you learn that you'll be able to let someone feel for you, and you for them. It does not have to end in marriage and a family if you don't want it to. You are already an honest man so there shall be no miscommunications. Just allow things to happen that might help you heal over time. You give so much to others; after all you did give me a life in just a few weeks. That's special Athos. Don't forget it."

He did not speak, and Elizabeth was glad for it. She was able to turn away from him and climb into the carriage without crying. Once she was comfortably seated she slapped her hand against the side of the carriage and it moved off. She dearly longed to look out at him from the window or to throw her hand out in a wave but she knew that she couldn't. She had made a promise to herself that there would be no more looking back.


	20. Epilogue - Summer 1634

_**Epilogue - Summer 1634**_

Les Halles market was busy as ever. Porthos had just caught a pickpocket trying to steal from a mother carrying her baby. The woman was young and pretty, so of course Aramis had needed to help too. D'artagnan had meandered off to talk to Constance who he'd seen passing on a street corner. Athos didn't mind. His younger friend knew that he was still on duty; was still poised to take any action required should the need call for it. Athos moved on through the throng of people, ignoring the growl his stomach made when he passed a stall selling sweet pastries. The chatter and laughter of summer markets was always a pleasing sound. It reminded Athos that life was still lovely, still beautiful and still strong.

There was an unmistakable sound that reached his ears as he found himself within the melee of a crowd of stalls that sold fine silks. It was a voice, a laughter that made him think of home somehow. It was not his office at the garrison or his rooms in Paris that he thought of. It was a sound filled with the youth of spring and the freshness of the county. It was the kind of laughter that should have been ringing throughout the fine halls of a house like his in the country. He had not thought of that place in such a long time; had not considered his old life in relation to anyone who he had met in his new one. That sound though, that sound made him feel like somehow he could go back there.

He moved quickly then as the voice began to fade. He ambled around stalls, the rainbow colours of fine embroidered silk dancing before his eyes to obscure his view. The sound was stationary then, and he slowed until he was sure he was very close to it indeed. He reached up to the intricate white lace and with fumbling fingers he pulled it back slightly. A shock of blonde hair met his eyes as the woman laughed again. The sound touched his heart this time. It was full of happiness. She was arm in arm with a tall blond man who looked upon her with a definite fondness. She really had found happiness then. There was a part of him that wanted to shrink away from the sight and leave her to her new life, but there was also a large part of him that wanted to know who the man was, wanted to know if he was of a decent sort.

He watched her for a time as she walked on and he followed. She remained arm in arm with the man, chatting merrily as they meandered through the stalls. Her fingers were reaching out to snag on all of the fine cloths as she passed them. Athos wanted to grab that hand. Then, suddenly another man was at her side, taking that hand and placing it into the crook of his arm. This new man was so alike the first that Athos suddenly realised why she was so happy. The resemblance then was striking as he realised he was looking upon her two brothers.

He could not contain his excitement to see her so happy, and he no longer wanted to. He would make himself known, but he would let her think that she had spotted him fist. He moved away from them swiftly and circled around them so that they might come face to face. He approached her with an indifferent manner as if he had not seen her, but she simply smiled as she caught sight of him. There was no expectation or surprise there. Had she known that he had been watching her?

She extricated herself from her brothers with a few whispered words and approached him as her brothers moved on. She smiled wanly, and he knew she had sensed him earlier when he was following her. "Hello," was all that she said.

"Your brothers?" Athos asked her. Elizabeth nodded and the pearl drop earrings hanging from her ears jangled slightly. "Your mother; is she here?"

Her smile diminished. She shook her head and Athos knew somehow that her mother had passed on. Elizabeth had seen the realisation in his eyes. "My brothers were with her at the end. She was surrounded by people that loved her. That is the best one can hope for in this world."

She had clearly not forgotten how alone she had felt for all of those months when she thought she was going to die. Yet, there was a new found confidence within her that spoke volumes about the last two years of her life. She had found herself. "And yet you look happy," Athos replied. "You are well?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "I am very well Monsieur. I am happy indeed. What about you; are you happy?"

Athos stepped towards her then and grinned. "I am now."

They moved then as one, scurrying towards an alleyway that was gratefully empty. Athos leaned back against the wall and watched Elizabeth. He knew she would see his movement as a challenge. He was not about to repeat the actions that occurred the first time they had kissed. The ball was entirely in her court this time. She stepped closer ever so slowly, emphasising each step with a swing of her hips. He wanted to reach out and grab her waist to pull her towards him, but he resisted. He resisted any act of force until she was pressing herself against him and she placed his lips over his. Then he lost all of his willpower and gave in to rebellion. He pulled her flush against him and kissed her soundly, suddenly not caring if anyone from the street saw.


End file.
